


The Gathering

by love2imagine



Series: Out of this World [12]
Category: White Collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 62,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love2imagine/pseuds/love2imagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were the wars, death and destruction, slavery and servitude, misunderstandings and misfortunes, love and hate and everything in between. There was learning and exploring. There was depression and expression, lies and truths. There was travel on an extensive scale and finding homes along the way.</p><p>But there hadn't been a party. Neal thought the next thing should be a party, and he used all his contacts shamelessly to bring it about. He's never been shy about that!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Last minute preparations

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, WC characters and milieu belong to Someone Else - created by Jeff Eastin. Thank you for that. Original Characters mine, original story-lines mine, mistakes mine.
> 
> This is for fun, meaning no offense to anything or anyone!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal makes sure Mozzie is happy, introduces Litha to waves and finally thinks he has everything planned for his party.
> 
> Glossary of names and Keeps and all is the last chapter of Out of Breath.

 

 

Having gone through the lists with Joster and Merritt, Neal knew there was still a great deal to do if he wanted this gathering to go off as he desired. Peter took El out to see the flowers and then he jumped them back to their home, along with June and Diana, who wanted to make sure they were looked after, wouldn’t become over-tired cleaning up, and be there to yell if they needed to return to Steel.

 

To Diana’s surprise, Neal hugged Peter and Elizabeth (not perhaps with the same warmth as she might have expected years before, but then, she hadn't seen them hug often, even then) and apologised for not staying to help. Let Peter explain to Diana and June, at least! He needed to make sure Mozzie was okay with this!

 

Litha was waiting impatiently for him to return. “You will take me to see your planet? You have seen my Keep!”

 

“I have seen your Keep, Litha. I promise to take you to see my planet, just not now. Now Mozzie is more important. Unless – well, just let me call them, please?”

 

“Of course, Neal.” Litha stood calmly, watching him, and he asked, “What is it, dear?”

 

“I do not want to put the pressure on you, my Neal. I can be calm and quiet and wait till you are ready for me, if still sure you are not. I would prefer to wait with you, where I can see you, you are so good to look upon, but if you would rather I wait at Laffaysham I will do that.”

 

Neal chuckled, finding her ever more appealing. “I am glad to have you around, but I am going to be very busy till after the gathering at Betchem, and you may get bored. And you are a distraction!”

 

She smiled at this last observation and answered the first, “I know you, inside, but seeing you, hearing your voice, finding out how you are around different people I know not, these I enjoy.”

 

They went to Neal’s suite and Neal thought about Mozzie, who appeared about ten minutes later. “What is it, Neal, you sound…or whatever your thoughts do …uneasy.”

 

“No, just wanted to update you and Sally. Won’t take long…hmm… why don’t we go to Wickanninish? I can show Litha the beach.”

 

“In those?” Mozzie said.

 

“It’s winter there. Can she borrow Sally’s coat, they’re about a size?”

 

“Yeah, guess so.” Mozzie frowned a little.

 

Neal took his arm and tranquilly walked him into the next room. “Listen not, Litha, please.”

 

She looked surprised, but nodded, and Neal closed the door after him.

 

“What? You look like a burn-victim in a hair shirt, Moz!”

 

“It’s just – only Tammy, of all the aliens, have been to Earth. Surely taking Litha is tantamount to declaring yourself to her, her family, everyone?”

 

“Moz, we are already betrothed, at least informally!”

 

“As you say, not formally. And she’s not Tammy, Neal! Tamlin belongs to Steel. Litha’s full Laffay and she’s going home to visit others with strong sensitivities. Does she belong to you, is she loyal to you, or Laffaysham?”

 

“Hmm..with that level of empathy, they would all know how to jump if she did?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You think that’s a problem?”

 

“ _Yeah_. Earth is just getting over being invaded. Some of the people there were slaves under Lord Laffay. I’m not sure…”

 

“I do see what you mean.”

 

“Can you trust her? I mean, not to be mean, but…”

 

“She’s not Rebecca.”

 

“Neither was Rebecca, if you recall!”

 

Neal made a face.

 

Moz went on, “And I can’t vet her – Rachel was good, but at least she had to go to the trouble to create a back-story.”

 

“You’re very paranoid all of a sudden. I sort of thought you were over that, mostly.”

 

“I mostly am, here. I’m not on Earth. And though I am more comfortable here, at Steel, than I am on Earth from a security point of view, I don’t know the Laffays and I want to protect my home planet, Neal.

         “And you.”

 

“Lord Steel – Peter and El way back - you, Joster and Merritt – you must all think I _am_ like a child, needing protecting!

                                  “Would you feel more comfortable if she was my wife?”

 

Mozzie looked away, thought a bit. “What if she is conning you, like Rachel did?”

 

“Oh, Moz!”

 

“I know. It’s just we let _her_ in, too, so fast, and it nearly got both of us killed.”

 

“Well, perhaps go and get Sally, and I’ll talk to Litha.”

 

Mozzie nodded and winked out and Neal went to Litha and looked into her eyes and said, “We have a little problem. You can read me, but read you we can not, and Mozzie is concerned. Because I have been targeted before, women have stolen my heart, and used me and he is scared it is happening again.”

 

She opened her green eyes wide. “I am not. How could we do that, when we would feel the other’s pain, Neal?”

 

“You could be telling me that feeling the other’s pain was painful for you, even though it was not …you see?”

 

She nodded slowly. “I am not used to deception, Neal.

         “So even if I shared with you, as our Lord did,” it took Neal a few seconds to realise that she was referring to Lord Steel, who would be her Lord if they married, “none of you would be sure I was not…fooling you.”

 

“I would tell you I would trust my heart, which tells me you are as lovely inside as out, but my heart has been a poor indicator before, Litha, that is what Mozzie is fearing.”

 

“Why is this a problem now? – oh, your planet. I see.” Litha moved away and sat down, and Neal felt his heart twist. He did not want to hurt her. She looked up. “Do you trust Lira? It is possible for the Chiri to take someone apart, did you know? To find everything about them. They call it a * _Read*_ , and it is not done now. But they can. Then you could trust me?

         “You must trust Lira, she has helped you for many winters!”

 

“You would submit to that, Litha?”

 

“I will call her.”

 

At that moment, Mozzie and Sal appeared.

 

“Wait, Litha, before you call Lira….

........"Mozzie! Litha has suggested that we ask Lira to do a * _Read*_ on her, so we can trust her.”

 

“I do not fear her, she is good,” Litha said. “She has been so sweet to bring me here, and she healed my arm when I broke it falling out of a tree, and when I burned my hand.

         “I heard you say you loved blown glass, Neal, but I will never have anything to do with it again!”

 

“It is nasty stuff, molten glass,” Mozzie agreed with her. “And it can look so harmless!”

 

“Lab rule number one: hot glass looks exactly like cold glass,” Neal added.

 

“In a lab, yes, and usually elsewhere!” Mozzie said, and then, thoughtfully, “Actually, sugar syrups and especially pullable sugar is even more deceptive! It smells good, too!”

 

Litha ignored this interchange, concerned. “I quite see that it is difficult to trust, when I can see you and you cannot see me, as if you were blind, Neal, now that I think about it,” Litha went on, apologetically. “You were fooled by people – including your Military Peter – before. You only have my word that at Laffay there are very few secrets if there is any emotional content at all. We usually do not bother to keep them private, we see little reason to do so!”

 

“Note to self: do not move to Laffay!” Mozzie smiled at Neal. Then he turned to Litha. “You are indeed ready to allow a Chiri to * _Read*_ you?”

 

“If it will get me Neal, yes,” she said, determinedly. “His trust and that of his friends.”

 

“Is there anything you would not do to get Neal?” Sally asked.

 

Litha shook her head, then stopped and said, “When I _listen_ to him, Neal wants me. So no. If he did not, I would do nothing to entice him.”

 

“Do you know how invasive a Chiri * _Read*_ is?” Mozzie asked Litha, quietly.

 

“No. I only hear what I have been told, it was used as a story to frighten children, Moz-zie. Before your father and Lord Camber learnt about the Chiri, they were thought to be some kind of dangerous being with immense powers that could disintegrate a normal human into tiny parts and would do so at will, since they hated us. Some of my older siblings were told this, and then had to re-adjust to finding out that they were good.

         “It was perhaps to keep the small children from wandering, that we were told these tales.” She mused a moment at the deception of children too young to hear their parents' emotions accurately, then went on, “But no matter: if Neal wishes me to be * _Read*_ so that he can trust me, it seems a small price to pay.”

 

“I was * _Read*_ by Lira,” Mozzie told her, his voice still very low.

 

“Why? Because Military Peter suspected you?” Litha was horrified!

 

The Earthlings laughed. “No doubt,” Mozzie told her, his smile wide, “if he had access to the Chiri and simultaneously access to me, he would have done that to me, and Neal – not once, but often! Perhaps daily!

........"No, remember when there was a rumour, a thought, that a human might have brought a disease that was responsible for killing people? Any human could have been * _Read*_ to prove that this was so – or not. I volunteered.”

 

“What a brave man you are, Mozzie!” Litha said, and, much to Mozzie’s surprise, jumped up and hugged him. “And if you can survive it, so can I!”

 

“No, I think we do not need this confirmation. The very fact that you had never probed me and discovered that I had been * _Read*_ by Lira proves that you keep your word. So we would ask if it is possible for you to keep our translating abilities away from your entire clan?”

 

“Oh, yes, we are not invasive of each others private lives if they are kept private,” she told him and added naively, “and I am full Laffay, so I am more capable of reading than others, so they would not dare!”

         She turned and leaned on Neal’s chest. “So we can go to Earth, now, Neal?”

 

“Litha, my love, we can go to Earth now!”

 

Everyone put a hand on Mozzie’s shoulder, Neal put his arm round Litha to make her feel safe and secure, and next thing they were in a well-appointed room with large windows overlooking the stormy grey Pacific Ocean.

 

“I am on Earth?” Litha squeaked in excitement. “The windows are so big, and it is so very warm! Oh, that is a lake? I have never seen one so big! Can we go to it, Neal?”

 

“It can be dangerous when the winds are high, Litha,” Neal told her, his heart lifting at the joy of sharing all the splendour of Earth with her. “I need to speak to Mozzie a little, could you wait for me?”

 

“Can I go outside?”

 

“Perhaps not on your own, the first time,” Sally told her. “I’ll come with you.”

 

“I don’t mind you listening, Sal,” Neal said.

 

“Any decision about the four of us is really Mozzie’s domain, Neal,” the pretty woman told him, and handed Litha her jacket.

 

“For me? But it is so very warm!”

 

“It is less-so on the beach!” Sally smiled and the two of them left, taking the door this time!

 

Mozzie watched Neal’s silly smile and grinned. “How long are we going to keep this up, that you are not head-over-heels in love with this very unusual girl!”

 

Neal turned to him, lit up. “She really is, isn’t she? She nearly pounced on Peter, earlier! I had to call her off!”

 

“Wish you’d met her sooner. I wish _she’d_ met _him_ sooner!”

 

Neal laughed. “I have to agree with you! But you are fine with her, Moz, yes? I would do nothing to threaten our friendship.”

 

“I think I recall just jumping into bed with Sally without a single thought of you or what you would prefer.”

 

“Yes, and I recall that you burnt her number and cut all ties because we were going to leave New York – which we eventually did – and Fate still stepped in and brought you together.”

 

“And the second time I didn’t ask your opinion either!”

 

“Perhaps I just have more polished manners!”

 

Mozzie grinned. “If Fate is that strong, you are going to be involved with Litha anyway!

         “I was Alex’s friend, you recall. I didn’t much like Sara, though if we had travelled separate paths and you had stayed working for the FBI, which I was gravely afraid you would at one point, she would probably have been ideal for an Agent Neal Caffrey with a 1040EZ and a cramped suburban monstrosity of a dwelling place with boxed wine on the kitchen counter. I would not be part of that Neal’s life.

         “Later, I knew you were bedding Rebecca, but I didn’t think it was going to be long term, so it wasn’t really of interest to me.

         “I have never met anyone quite like Litha, which is saying something considering the number of free-thinking people I have met!”

 

“But you like her? She’d fit in with us, with Sally?”

 

“I think so. She seems besotted with you, so you should be able to mould her a little.”

 

“Why besotted, as though she has to be mentally unhinged - !” Neal objected.

 

Mozzie just grinned his impish grin. Neal’s face softened, too.

 

“Now after all that, was that what you wanted to confirm, that I liked your Litha?”

 

“Oh – no, not at all! Peter told me this long story, he wanted my forgiveness.”

 

“ _Forgiveness? FBI Agent Peter Burke wanted **forgiveness?**_

“I have not been near the ocean, but I believe that by some strange occurrence there is water in my ears!”

Neal grinned more broadly. “He wasn’t good at seeing that he needed it, before, was he?”

 

Mozzie was breathing heavily, his fingers seemed to be having a little, anxious dialogue with each other. “Perhaps those people who are watching the Blood Moons are right, and the world – Earth – is about to end. Or perhaps in the course of his dubiously lawful duties, he has finally been clobbered on the head hard enough for a little light to enter? Burke asking for your forgiveness! For all the terrible things he caused: prison, the anklet, Kate being blown up - ?”

 

“I actually never told him that Adler said he’d blown up the plane because Peter’d arrived there. It was after the fact, she was dead, he certainly didn’t come to the airfield with the purpose of getting her killed. Don’t tell him, Moz.”

 

“You always did like him and trust him more than I did! But – I guess. I think he just wanted you to stay, controlling bastard.

         “But he did try and save innocents…if that’s what Kate was, after all! I won’t tell him.”

 

“And what he told me was more about after we got him out of prison…”

 

“You realise you still react to that? Your trapezius and masseter muscles tense, just a little. Should watch that!”

 

“Yeah, guess I do. It was as though – as though I’d lost a male role model I'd hoped to be able to trust for the third time…when I was little, when James walked out and left me to sort out the mess, and then when Peter blamed me for doing the best I knew how…however, he _did_ explain.”

 

Neal and Mozzie sat down and Neal gave Mozzie an accurate account of Peter’s confusion.

 

Afterwards, Mozzie sat quietly. “Guess we can identify with that crap! Took all of Mr Jeffries teaching to get over being smaller than all the other boys, the only one wearing glasses, not very strong or athletic. Took all of Sally’s cuddles and assurances to get over the same things, only decades later!”

 

Neal smiled at him, put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You know, I am aware you wear glasses and are shorter than I am, but that has never made me feel in any way superior to you, Moz!”

 

“Oh, reality has nothing whatsoever to do with how we feel! You just admitted (finally) that you saw Peter as a father figure, or something of that nature! Or wanted to! Other than him being an older male, anything further from the truth…”

 

“Depends on the father…”

 

Mozzie made a gesture of assent.

 

“ _Do_ you happen to know this Claire hypnotherapist?” Neal asked.

 

“No, but of course, she didn’t hypnotise Peter.”

 

“Didn’t she?”

 

“No, life did that! She dehypnotised the poor mug! I’m glad you got an explanation for that, hopefully you can now get over feeling betrayed. Peter was as betrayed as you were – and who knows what caused Bobby to be so damaged!

         “But I still have to ask…why did you not _expect_ to get betrayed by an FBI agent, Neal? I’ve often wondered, but didn’t want you to feel that I was criticising, you were so hurt by it. But it’s not as though he hid his identity from you…agent of the _government._ Not trustworthy. Bureaucrat – follows rules put out by people who only care about controlling the general population and collecting the general population’s tax dollars to pay for the systems used to control the general population.

         “It’s like complaining that you're hurt when you grab a cactus and get all the spines in your hand! Not reasonable!”

 

“No more general population references. Makes me think of prison.”

 

“Exactly! Clever, really…put the free people behind bars so the other people _feel_ free!”

 

“ _What?”_

“Did you pay taxes in prison?”

 

“Didn’t feel very free!”

 

“Do you realise that most families worked their little butts off…collective butts…to spend money on essentials necessary to keep them alive so they could continue to work their little butts off - _and_ pay taxes? Yeah, they perhaps got take-out or went for a drink with the boys, because hey, the government wants people sick so they can get some money flowing to the Keep-them-sick-so-they-don’t-fight so-called ‘health’ system, but most people who lived so-called legitimate lives ended up with no assets worth speaking about?”

 

“I know. Sadly, though I don’t particularly like your explanation, you have a point. It was one of the reasons I embraced the alternate lifestyle! So many people I met just worked and paid and worked…lived those lives of quiet desperation. Most folks over forty had lost their dreams completely, even forgotten them. Even now, most will tell you the dreams of their youth with a self-deprecating laugh, as though they were stupid to dream at all!

         “It _is_ better now!”

 

“Yes…perhaps facing death at the hands of the aliens woke people up. I can understand the governments’ view point – I don’t agree with it, but I understand it. It’s the _people_ who confused me!”

 

“I agree with you there! And I’d like to meet Claire. Peter seems to think she’s smart and off the radar.”

 

“Did you get her number?”

 

“He didn’t have it, but said he’d find it for me.

         “So you are okay with the fact that, at least till proven otherwise, I am assuming that the Burkes are okay and giving them another chance?”

 

“I know they meant a lot to you, Neal, at one time. Not my thing, but for what they were they were not bad.”

 

“Don’t give me that – you were very fond of Elizabeth!”

 

“Yes. She really seemed to like you. To be human despite her spouse. I had hopes.”

 

“Okay, then.”

 

“And we won’t be in any way beholden to them, you can _not_ be shackled ever again! - won’t even see them that often, so it probably won’t be a problem. You can go see them a couple of times a year.”

 

“You won’t?”

 

“Perhaps, but I have no desire to do so. I was prepared to be nice to Elizabeth and to not stir the pot with Burke, but mainly because you were tied to them and I wanted to be able to see _you_. I never wanted you to be in prison, but you wouldn’t listen to me about Kate…I didn’t want you on the anklet, and you nearly were lost a few times there to the indoctrination…and I certainly didn’t want you to be in prison _again!_

 _........“_ And at first, Neal, she really seemed on your side.”

 

Neal nodded, but noted the shadows in Mozzie’s eyes, and felt a spark of anger. Mozzie had trusted El, and Mozzie seldom trusted anyone! It seemed a double betrayal to hurt someone like Moz. Neal shrugged to himself. As Moz said, he would only see them now and then, and perhaps they could rebuild the trust. “Good! Glad it’s all worked out and you’re okay with it! And I never wanted you to be hurt…that’s why I didn’t tell you everything when it happened. I am very glad I didn’t – you may not have stowed away and become my brother!

         “I should go and see what Litha’s up to!”

 

“I’m not that bad at reading you, mon frère…I knew you were hurt and you told me about Peter, but urged me not to visit them, not to talk to El, as though it would hurt her to know what her husband had done. I did wonder, though, you were _so_ adamant.

         “Here, take my coat. It will be a little short on you, but better than nothing.”

 

Neal smiled and took it and went to the door, then deliberately turned and walked back. Mozzie looked up, surprised, and Neal hugged him tightly. If he didn’t mind it from Litha…!

 

“What?” Mozzie asked, smiling.

 

“I don’t say it enough – you and June saved my sanity in New York and you taught me almost all I know and kept me safe – you have been my family and my only friend most of my life and I just wanted to say thank you.”

 

“Actually, Neal – likewise. Don’t know what I would have done without _you_ , you know. Now go and save my woman and yours from the waves – or whatever they are up to.”

 

Neal turned and then stopped and looked round, his face puzzled. “Moz…when we were out riding, before we were surrounded by murderous patriots!...I noticed, I think – your hair is growing, isn’t it?”

 

Mozzie looked down, more bashful than Neal had seen him for a long time, if ever! “Yes. You will notice that none of the men on Brethsham go bald. The Chiri cure that, too…and that’s wonderful for you, but I’m used to myself this way. Sally is used to me this way. It has the added advantage of never leaving hairs at the scene of a crime!”

 

“Except eye-brows and eye-lashes, which you have! So you’ve been shaving?”

 

“Eye-brow and eye-lash hairs are much easier to fix so they don’t shed! And I borrow Joster or Merritt, in return for all my tuition on the subject!”

 

“Well, I like you this way. You wouldn’t look like my Mozzie with flowing locks!”

 

“I was unlikely to ever join the cast of Hair, Neal! Now go!”

 

 

Neal hurried out, smiling. Sally was laughing on the beach, holding her extra jacket. Litha was squealing in delight, running into the edge of the waves and out again. She was already wet to her hips!

 

“You couldn’t keep her dry?” Neal demanded of Sally.

 

“Good luck to you, keeping her from anything, Neal Caffrey!” Sally chuckled. “She’s a darling, you know. I approve.”

 

“Good!” He raised his voice over the tumult of the waves. “Litha!”

 

She turned and saw him and raced over the sand, nearly falling, and threw her arms round him. He was getting used to this form of salutation, and had braced himself. “You are cold and wet!” he admonished.

 

“I am a little wet, but it is hardly cold…the water is not frozen, Neal!”

 

“Lick your lips.”

 

“Ooh, they taste of salt, how delicious!”

 

“So this water freezes at a lower temperature than fresh, unsalted water. It is cold!”

 

“But still, Neal, it is not _very_ cold here.”

 

Neal sighed. “I am sure to you it is not very cold.”

 

“I have heard of these wave-things, but never seen them.”

 

“The large lake at Betchem will get waves, if the wind is strong, but I agree, nothing like this size body of water in storm season!”

 

“It is a very big lake?”

 

“It is nearly a third of the planet! We call the biggest bodies of water oceans. A smaller, but still huge body of water is a sea, something smaller still is a lake – smaller again, a pond and then a puddle! This ocean is truly enormous, Litha!” She looked at him with wide eyes. “Now, Sweetie, are you finished playing?”

 

“No, of course not! See the frothy bubbles at the edges!” she danced back. “Can we go in the water, Neal?”

 

“It looks as though you have already been paddling! Even wading! And it is a little rough, and the water has great power. Perhaps we should find a calmer sea to start, Lith – and after the Gathering, as I still have a great deal to do?”

 

She came back, carrying a ribbon of kelp, broken off from one of the huge and amazing kelp beds. “It is smooth and shiny, is it alive? It feels as though it has much life, and is joined to much life.”

 

“It was alive, and perhaps still is partially. It was part of an enormous plant that lives underwater, a great multitude together, like a submerged forest.”

 

“I want to see that!”

 

Neal said, “I am not quite sure how we will manage, but I am sure Mozzie will find a way. He wants to visit underwater places, too.”

 

“I shall like Mozzie very much! He is good and interesting, like you.”

 

“Can we go home, now, to Steel? We need to wash out the cloth you have wetted, or the salt will damage the fibres.”

 

“You know so much, Neal!”

 

There isn’t anyone who doesn’t like sincere admiration, and though Neal is exceptional, he is no exception to _that_ rule, especially when the admirer is a pretty female! Sally saw his glow and grinned. “I shall go back to Mozzie, I think! If you two go under that overhanging balcony, you should be safe to jump to Brethsham, oh, knowledgeable one!” Sally told him, holding out her hand for Mozzie’s coat.

 

“You, Sal dear, are hanging about too much with Mozzie!” Neal teased, shrugging it off and handing it to her.

 

She kissed his cheek and told him, in good Sheel. “That is likely, but not likely to cease!”

 

 

 

Neal jumped Litha back to his rooms at Steel and gave her a gentle shove towards the bathroom. “I will go and borrow some of Tammy’s clothes, you get washed, we’ll wash the salt out of your things.”

 

But when he got to Tammy and Diana’s, no-one was there, so he found some of his own soft trousers and a shirt and called, “Are you in the shower?”

 

“Yes, Neal.”

 

He stepped into the room and placed the clothing on the wide shelf. Litha was happily splashing about, and he was hit solidly by a fierce temptation to join her.

 

_Oh, this is not good. Too long alone, too needy to be feet away from a beautiful naked girl whom I love and who, almost without a doubt, would welcome me into her shower, into her body…stop it, Neal! This is not 2010 New York! Controlling inappropriate lusts is part of the job description of the nobility here._

Feeling as though he _really_ needed a shower – cold – he left, closing the door softly behind him, and changed out of his dampened clothing. Being naked himself didn’t really help. He dressed quickly and soon Litha joined him where he was reading on the couch. She snuggled up and looked over his shoulder. “What is that?”

 

“I am reading about new research that was found concerning the pigments…they way some of the artists on my world created the colours and shadows in their work.”

 

“No, what is _that_ ,” she pointed. “Is that your home language?”

 

Neal smiled. “Sorry. I am so used to the Steel Keepers knowing this, at least the ones who might be reading over my shoulder! Yes, that is what we call English, because the language started and was…melded…in a country called England. A country is sort of like a Keep? A leader, and people, and each country is different, and many of them on my planet have different languages.”

 

“So unlike our system where the southern nobility and their slaves speak Sheel and many of the lower classes speak Cortisan standard, like the nomadic tribes of the north?”

 

Neal thought a moment. “If you go to England, where this language originated, you can tell easily which part of the country someone comes from, often by some of the vocabulary, and even more by their accent, the way they say their words.”

 

“Explain to me.”

 

“For instance, the word for one level of leader might be said ‘governor’ or ‘guvna’,” he said. “And those words are both considered English, and each speaker would understand the other, though in extreme cases of local accents it becomes much more difficult! In one of the main cities in England, there is a whole group of people who sort of speak in code. They are called ‘Cockneys’, and first of all their speech is full of glottal stops. So the word ‘butter’ becomes ‘ bu’a ’, and then, to make themselves less understood by authorities – I like to think that is how it started! – they change whole phrases into something that rhymes with it, and often have a double-meaning.

         “So for instance, a man might call his spouse instead of ‘wife’ ‘Duchess of Fife’ – a noble title that rhymes because she may be a little haughty and tells him what to do, or ‘trouble and strife’ because she causes him difficulties. But ‘trouble and strife’ and ‘Duchess of Fife’ both rhyme with ‘wife’.”

 

He waited to see if she was following, and she nodded. Then he went on, “To make things more interesting, those well-versed in speaking Cockney rhyming slang – one of which I am definitely _not!_ Mozzie is better, with his quick brain and perfect memory _–_ will then leave off the end of the rhyming phrase – so ‘trouble and strife’ becomes merely ‘trouble’ which, of course, no longer rhymes with ‘wife’ at all!”

 

She laughed. “People actually communicate in this way?”

 

“Many of them! It is a whole sub-culture, in a non-derogatory sense! They have their own ‘folk’ costume, black clothes sewn with buttons, which used to be all mother-of-pearl, but perhaps now are merely white. So you see the subject of language on my planet is quite complex!”

 

“No wonder you and Mozzie are so outstandingly intelligent, then.”

 

“How do you know we are?” Neal chuckled.

 

She stared at him, her green eyes wide. “Everyone who has spent time with you says the same thing about you, that you are intelligent and brave. Less people know Mozzie. And as you say, he wishes to remain secret, which explains that.”

 

“I think we have many life-experiences that most people do not. We bring them to new situations here – like the plants – so we appear intelligent.”

 

She gave him a Look that said he was talking rubbish – and he knew he was being foolishly modest. He made a face back. “Sorry…I prefer people to underestimate me, and play that game with you I can not. I am more intelligent than the average. The various experiences help, though!”

 

“You have those experiences because you are intelligent, Neal.”

 

“Partly, and it is facilitated by the fact that we were often ‘on the run’ – avoiding authorities, because that is what criminals do, and moving from one location to another to find different illegal activities to make us rich, because that is what criminals do, and learning facts and details so we could pretend to be someone with particular hobbies or a specific profession, because that is what conmen do. You can follow what I am remembering?”

 

She snuggled down next to him. “Yes, but I would love you to tell me all about the crime, and the different Keeps…countries…and the girls you have loved.”

 

“Will that not make you jealous, Litha?”

 

“No. I have you now.”

 

He chuckled and kissed the top of her damp head. “You do.”

 

“So we can get betrothed at the gathering?” Her voice was muffled, but the longing was not, and Neal had never been good at delaying pleasures unless there was a very good reason!

 

“I think we can become formally betrothed, Litha.”

 

She lifted her face with its radiant smile and hugged him hard.

 

There was a knock on the door and Neal knew it was his Lord, so called, “Come in!”

 

Steel walked in and looked down at the slightly damp pair. He asked, pretending to be shocked, “Neal – you have a maiden in your bedroom and she is wearing your clothes – that, or Lucilla has gone completely mad!”

 

“No, they belong to me, my Lord. She became wet, so she came here and showered. And yes, we probably should be in one of the public areas of the Keep, but this is much more fun, much cosier – and we are getting betrothed at the gathering, if that is acceptable to you, my Lord!”

 

“Did you honestly tell Lord Laffay that you would steal her if he gave her not to you?”

 

“I explained that I was a thief and that is what I would do,” Neal admitted. “Lord Laffay did not seem unduly perturbed when we left Laffaysham!”

 

“And you have been honourable with this lovely girl?” Steel asked.

 

“He has not made love to me, my Lord,” Litha said, sadly.

 

Steel grinned. “Laffays! However, it would be more seemly, Neal, if you showered here – alone – and she showered in Tammy’s or June’s suite, or one of the single quarters.”

 

“But my Lord,” Litha objected, “Neal would still have had to come into the shower to bring me clothing.”

 

“He did not!” Steel actually did sound scandalized!

 

“No,” Neal said, also a little sadly, “he did not. He entered the room and placed the clothes on the side and left as a gentleman would.” He sighed.

 

“In case you two notice not, we have a Keep full of slaves, many of them female: any of them could have brought you clothing, Litha!”

 

“If I get wet again and need a shower before the gathering, I will try and be decorous in your Keep, my Lord,” Litha promised. “But truly, no-one but we two knew we were here! And after the gathering we will be betrothed!”

 

Neal grinned at his Lord’s face and said, “It is like pushing a large smooth rock up an icy slope, my Lord. Wearisome and pointless!

         “Oh! Does the sea at Sea Keep have waves and a beach…I know Laffaysham buys our sand…?”

 

“Yes, of course!”

 

“We shall honeymoon there when the weather is right for it!” Neal promised Litha, using the English word.

 

“What is this ‘honeymoon’?” Litha demanded.

 

“It is a time when the married couple go somewhere beautiful for a short time while they get to know each other.”

 

“You two seem reasonably well acquainted, and that does not include Litha’s sensitivities,” Steel pointed out, drily.

 

“You have never shown me the secondary Keep to which I am heir, my Lord!” Neal complained. “This is a wonderful opportunity to see it, and meet Jarad and see the breeding stock.”

 

“Breeding stock, hm?” Steel asked, and was enchanted to see Neal hesitate and blush. He so seldom caught out his son! Litha, of course, just grinned.

 

“The _horses_ , my Lord.”

 

“Ah, the horses.”

 

“Do not be mean, my Lord.”

 

“I said nothing mean, Neal.”

 

Neal huffed and Steel went on, “But I think it is an excellent idea, I have not been since you were at school, Neal, though of course Jarad and I write back and forth. We will all go in the spring, when the snow is still thick here.”

 

“We can jump, my Lord.”

 

“We will not jump. The journey is an experience in itself, and though you will probably choose to jump there afterwards, you should see the stronghold of the situation.”

 

Neal acquiesced readily.

 

Having wrung the acceptance of their betrothal from Neal…not exactly against his will! …Litha returned to Laffaysham with Lira, and Neal got out the clipboard with its voluminous lists and started crossing out the tasks he’d already completed.

 

He’d been to Earth numerous times. He’d visited all sorts of places and all types of people and written invitations in carefully worded English and Sheel. He had sworn his men to silence and used them to fetch and carry. He’d used the Chiris’ affection for him quite shamelessly, because he could not see a way to get this whole thing done without them. He’d been to forbidden places and spoken to complete strangers, and spoken with people he hadn’t ever thought to speak to again.

 

He was glad that Peter had offered an olive branch, as he’d grabbed it and leaned on that, too, though even Diana and June hadn’t known of it!

 

“Oh, I have probably forgotten something vital!” He unknowingly repeated every holiday-planner ever, for he, living an abnormal life from such a young age, had never actually taken a proper, Earthly holiday! “No, no – Mozzie would have caught it. I’m sure!”

 

There were the last bits and pieces to be brought together. He set down the papers, lay back on his couch, and visualised everything, trying to see ways to improve the occasion or avoid disasters. Of course, there were always children to be sick, or blizzards to blow up out of nowhere: like any con, any heist, parties could go sideways at the drop of a dime…one just did one’s best, and kept fit and hoped to outrun the avalanche or the Gendarmerie! He opened his eyes and smiled at various emerging memories.

 

Sometimes, outrunning the Gendarmerie was the best part of the con! That and the party afterwards! His smile broadened to an outright grin!

 

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 1

 


	2. Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As I said - arrivals, and, like a pantomime, everyone on stage at the end! - and, as always, what IS Neal up to?

 

 

 

Peter and El were translated to Betchem by Kitran. It felt like an airport when the long-clinging, depressing and dangerous fog has lifted and every gasping plane is landing as quickly as possible and disgorging disgruntled, scurrying passengers! The Greatroom was filled with people milling about, calling to others they knew in English. Some were dressed as slaves, with collars, but most were obviously newly arrived from Earth.

 

“Gosh, I hope Neal knows what he’s doing,” El said, holding tightly to Peter’s arm and clutching her suitcase. “This doesn’t look like a party, looks like a mob scene!”

 

“He seems happy with it!” Peter commented, making a motion with his head to indicate Neal, dressed as casually as all of them were, sitting cross-legged on a table on the raised dais, smiling down at the confusion.

 

“The organising angel!” El said, and sounded just a little sarcastic, but then, she didn’t like jostling, disorganised crowds! Almost on her words, Neal stood up on the table in a fluid movement and yelled, “Quiet!”

 

Everyone stopped talking, stood still and turned to look at him.

 

“Thank you!” he went on with a smile, in a lowered voice. “This is a Christmas party! Thank you all for coming, and I want everyone to just relax and have fun. While most of you had, or have, a Master or Lord, I am merely the master-of-ceremonies, acting as Earthling host for you all on behalf of Lord and Lady Betchem who have very kindly allowed us the use of this, the biggest of the Alliance Keeps for these few days. If you have any questions at any time, please come to me or my two men, Joster and Merritt, the tall ones over there!” He waved at them, standing at the back, and they waved back to let the Earthlings know at whom he was waving.

 

Neal went on smoothly. “Has everyone been given an ear-bug?”

 

There was a mass of noise and he shook his head and grinned, raised his voice and said, in Sheel, “Has anyone not received an ear-bug?”

 

The Earthlings laughed, some of them hearing his words through the little creatures for the first time. No-one said they hadn’t, so he went on, “Just please remember they need to be returned when you leave. We become so used to them, it’s easy to forget!

         “This is a party, but for those who celebrated Christmas, it was always as much about the preparations as the actual gathering and the delicious meal. I hope we can experience just a little of this enjoyment, which is why you are all dressed casually, as we are going to dress the trees, first!

         “Now some of you are still slaves here, some of you were slaves that returned to Earth, and a few are brave, stupid or totally incredulous family members or friends, who never – until a very short time ago - believed that we were abducted and taken to an alien planet!”

         He grinned and made a **_ta-da_** motion with both hands: “Surprise!” he exclaimed, and there was delighted laughter from the slaves and ex-slaves, more nervous giggles from the previously derogatory scoffers!

         “Now because there are so many of us, can we just split into two …those with Surnames – last names – beginning with the letter A to K go towards those big doors there, where slaves, in Betchem and Steel Keep livery, will escort you to your rooms where you may put away your things so that you may return and have some tea and snacks and we can start on the trees!

         “Likewise, those with Surnames beginning with L to Zed or Zee (I’m being international here!) go towards those far doors there!

         “And, please, ladies, gentlemen and children, _we_ are the aliens here and ambassadors for Earth, please respect the Keep and the people who live here? Thank you – I will see you shortly!”

 

The noise rose rapidly, and Peter watched Neal jump off the table and go off to where Lords Betchem and Steel were standing, watching.

 

“I wonder what he’s up to,” Peter murmured.

 

“Hon!” El laughed. “Stop it! He loves parties, and he has the wherewithal to throw a duzy! Doubt he’s going to rob a bunch of Earthlings of their meagre trinkets!”

 

Peter grinned down at her as, along with all the early-Alphabet Earthlings, they moved obediently towards the first door mentioned. “Habit! Trouble is, he’s so _good!_ He just stands there and takes charge, no fear of public speaking, or pretty well anything, just all polished and sparkly! And he’s like that on a con. The excitement brightens him up. I never did discover one phobia, you know.”

 

“That’s all right! Mozzie has enough for both of them!”

 

They chuckled.

 

“Hallo, Peter, Elizabeth!” said a blonde woman and they turned and exclaimed, “Sara!”

 

“I heard you were sick – better now?”

 

“Yes, absolutely! You look fabulous!”

 

“Been very busy! Thank you for all your help re-connecting to New York! Not as chaotic as it used to be, but still a buzz!”

 

“Boss!” Peter heard and turned to find Jones and his fiancée Emily making their way through the crowd. Peter dropped his bag and gave Jones a hug. Sara smiled and moved away, saying, “See you later!”

 

“I’m so glad you could come! We’ve seen you so seldom at …whatever this planet is, but _here!_ – how did Neal convince you to come?”

 

“He didn’t! He’s smart! He set Diana on us!” Jones chuckled. “How are you both?”

 

“Oh, we’re perfect, we feel fine, Clinton!” Elizabeth said. “Just one or two doses of Lira – thank God Peter thought of Mozzie and Neal, and they brought us here.”

 

“This is Emily,” Jones re-introduced her to El, though Peter had seen her more recently and knew her a little more. He went a charmingly bashful. “And you’ll be receiving an invitation in the mail to our wedding! I hope you will be able to come!”

 

“That’s wonderful!” El exclaimed, hugging Emily. “This is one very good man!” she told her.

 

“I have two of the best right-hand-men, though Jones is a little more by-the-book and less like a fire-cracker! He’s the nice, calm dependable one!” Peter told her. “Seriously, you have found a wonderful man!”

 

“How did Diana convince _you_ to risk the intergalactic journey, Emily?” El asked, curious.

 

Emily cleared her throat and said, “She and Tammy both came and told me that even if Clint and I never come back here, it had been a very important time in all your lives and that I would regret it if I treated it as having never happened. I knew Diana was in a relationship and had a little boy…I didn’t know her partner was an alien! It came as a shock, a little – she looks so _human!”_

“Earthling,” Jones corrected gently. “All of these people are human.”

 

“Yes, I get muddled still! And Clint told me how many friends he’d made here – mostly at Steel Keep? – and how they’d all saved his life and all of you and got you home. Home to me, of course! They convinced me I was being closed-minded, and so far I admit, it seems just like a seminar on Earth on a fantastic resort tree-house!”

 

Merritt appeared and stood, politely. Peter noticed and said, “Joster? – no, sorry, you’re the younger brother, Merritt?”

 

“Yes, Sir. If I might take you and show you to your rooms…? I believe you have been placed in adjoining suites, since you are friends, and Diana and Tamlin are also there?”

 

“And there’s a difference, Emily! Merritt is Neal’s – the one who was doing all the talking! – sworn man, protector, general factotum, and a slave!” Peter said. “Sorry we are being awkward, Merritt.”

 

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Merritt asked, and Peter, a little surprised, nodded. “Your tone indicates that you feel some negative aspect to being a slave in service to Neal, but it is not very different to your relationship with Caleb – sorry! Jones! – here. We love each other and would die for each other. So truly, we belong to each other. My declaration of freedom is written and lodged with Lord Steel. I can leave at any time. I choose not to. Never feel pity for those of us who are slaves of friendship and love, Sir.”

 

Peter was a little taken aback, Jones blinked. El said, “Merritt, I think your new Master is rubbing off on you! And yes, I think you are very lucky to have found each other! Now, which way is our suite?”

 

Merritt said, “Follow me, Elizabeth,” turned smartly and led them up the polished wooden corridor, like a large tunnel!

 

 

 

 

Neal joined Litha and Lira, and hugged them. “I could not have managed today without you both! You were amazing, and I so hope this will be fun for the Earthlings!”

 

Kitran smiled at Neal, not as used to the more physical interactions of these aliens, and Neal said, “And thank you for collecting all those ex-slaves we knew and trusted, Kitran!”

 

“It was enjoyable seeing their anticipation, Neal,” Kitran nodded, quietly.

 

Mozzie, and the Lords joined them.

 

“So, my son, is it proceeding as you hoped?”

 

“Oh, there is much to do, and I believe it will go well, my Lord, if I do not allow everything to unravel!

         “Thank you both, again, especially you, Lord Betchem, seeing that we have invaded your Keep and are utilising your slaves – and some of every Keep, but mostly yours!”

 

“You have probably heard the legend, Neal of Steel, that we always stood ready to take in all the men of all the Alliance Keeps if it should be necessary to make a Victorious and United Last Stand in the Keep Wars? Well, we are a friendly people – to our allies! – and we love to open our Keep, and show off her magnificence! And remember, it is not a free gift…you promised me several portraits for my gallery!”

 

“I heard many of the Earthlings who had lived at other Keeps make complimentary comments on your Keep, Lord Betchem,” Mozzie told him, and Litha and Neal nodded in agreement, and Lord Betchem looked complacently smug. Unfortunately, because of his strong empathy, Neal and Mozzie had to think hard about other things, while Litha shielded automatically.

 

“What now, Neal?” Mozzie asked.

 

“Well, we have all the trees in place, Moz.”

 

“I cannot think why you brought us trees – and cut trees, at that!”

 

“Coals to Newcastle – and a real castle!” Mozzie chuckled.

 

“I explained, Lord – they smell like Earth trees. We even have a few different species, as you see.

         “And, because I feel the same as you do about cutting live trees without a vital need, all of these came from projects which required land clearing or from an area where a land-slide had damaged their roots. I took great care about that, for I did not want your trees to be saddened by the deaths of these trees.”

 

“Our trees know we harvest the wild forest trees, Neal,” Lord Betchem said, and Mozzie and Lord Steel shared an amused glance at these two, talking about their sentient trees, though Litha merely listened and absorbed their conversation and their caring. “But they also know we are careful and try and cut diseased, damaged trees or to thin out so others might grow better. So I am glad you took those extra precautions.”

 

“I have no idea if they can actually communicate, Lord Betchem, but I think they will be able to share feelings.”

 

“Ah, Neal, here are the slaves with your boxes of…” Lord Steel hesitated, “…embellishments?”

 

“Decorations,” Neal told him the English word and let the ear-bugs handle the translation. “I should go and spread them around the room. Steel and Betchem and Sunder to the left…excuse me, please, Lord Betchem, my Lord, Kitran and Lira?”

 

They nodded assent and he left the dais with Mozzie, and Merritt and Joster hurried over to join them. Litha, Lira and Kitran went over to watch, and Lord Betchem asked Steel, “Why did your son feel the need to do this, do you know, Caerrovon? Did you have full understanding of what is to take place?”

 

Steel grinned at his friend as the others sorted boxes from their labels and pushed them to one side of the room or another. “I really had no idea, he goes about things his own way. I am still not sure what he hopes this will do. When I asked for elucidation, he merely said, ‘It is a _party_ , my Lord!’ as though nothing further needed to be said, which I think, in his mind, is the exact truth!”

 

“You just trust these alien sons of yours more than perhaps I trust my blood-progeny, allowing him a free hand in organising such a huge event – and not even at your home!”

 

Steel’s smile disappeared into settled gravity. “They found something about the murders and formulated a plan which was simple and effective and told me nothing because, as I was informed after the fact, to have shared their thoughts would have put my life in danger - ”

 

“A plan simple and effective – and deadly, at least temporarily, which was thwarted only by the …I am not sure even now!”

 

“Faith and the very plants that were being used as a weapon, Lord Betchem. If they had told me, and I had insisted on being the leader of the quest – which obviously I would have! – I think my son Mozzie was right : I would have been laid out on a bier somewhere, draped with ceremonial Steel colours. And I would not have returned!”

 

Lord Betchem gave him a calculating look. “So you are now sure that your sons have, at least, no plan to get rid of you and take rulership of the Keep!”

 

Steel laughed aloud! “They could be playing what they call a very ‘long con’ – an exceedingly tedious plot, I think we would say! But no, I do not think they have designs on my knot, Lord Betchem!

         “But to answer your question, I often do not follow the way they think, but they have been good, if unusual, sons! I am continually startled, even sometimes shocked, but they get results. And yes, Lord Betchem, I trust them both, surprising as that may seem, since they revel in their Earth reputations of being masterful criminals. Remind me one day to tell you about the Lashalashon painting ‘Entirety of Space’, and how that Space wandered about and was replaced with much-boiled rice!”

 

“ _What_ , Caerrovon?”

 

“It is a rather long tale, Lord, and I see that the Earthlings are returning, so let us see what Neal has planned now?”

 

Lord Betchem let his eyes wander over the groups of Earthlings, picking up snacks and tea from the tables, speaking to each other, visitors, slaves and ex-slaves and sighed. “You say they are not after your knot, Caerrovon…you may be right! Perhaps they have set their sights higher! Perhaps this is, in truth, an Earthling invasion, and it is _my_ Keep they wish to procure!”

 

Steel said firmly, “With all respect due to you, Lord Betchem, your Keep is only _bigger!”_

 

Now it was Lord Betchem’s turn to laugh!

 

 

 

 

Neal was having the time of his life! He kept all the A-K’s on one side, and they opened the boxes and there were traditional Christmas decorations in coloured glass, gold tinsel and also fire-bugs in beautiful glass containers, all lying quiet and dark at present, but the containers were pretty enough as they were, like multi-shaped glass bubbles.

 

Mozzie, meanwhile, was getting all the L-Z’s doing the same thing on the other side, decorating trees with similar ornaments, but all their tinsel was silver.

 

The Lords watched for a while, then left. Neal glanced over his shoulder and winked at Mozzie, who went over and uncovered a grand piano! Only in a room the size of Betchem’s Great Hall could a grand piano remain discreetly hidden beneath a couple of large sheets! A man in a tuxedo came up, smiled a little hazily, opened the top and sat down. He started to play Christmas carols and happy Earth music, and all the Earthlings brightened up.

 

A man in Camber beige came up to Neal and said, “I am Jewish, you know?”

 

“I know there are people from other faiths, and I’m sorry we can’t do everything for everyone! What is your name?”

 

“Abraham.”

 

“I thought you’d be older,” Neal grinned, and Abraham grinned back. “Look, I don’t know very much about the Jewish Moeds and their traditions. Or how Buddhists or Muslims would celebrate at all for that matter!

         “I just thought that most people from the countries that were attacked most – the English speaking countries – knew Christmas as a time of celebration, and joy. Please do not be offended. I have done my best to have all the food Kosher and Halal, though there may be other religions – well, we are to have meat, for example!

         “It is not supposed to be a religious occasion, just a celebration of life and family, love and forgiveness. You do not have to stay, but please pick up your envelope from Joster if you choose to leave?”

 

“I just thought – but I am happy to stay and decorate the Hanukah Bushes!” Abe said, still smiling. “Thank you – it certainly feels more like home than everything else has here on this alien place!” and Neal smiled and continued hanging decorations and artfully weaving strands of tinsel and then went on to the next thing on his list.

 

When the trees were finally done – with as much arguing and re-doing as on any family Christmas tree and a lot of friendly competition between this tree and the next! – tables were brought in by slaves and the Earthlings were sent off to wash their hands. When they all came back there were bowls of Christmas pudding ingredients on all the tables.

 

“I did not know this,” Neal called from the dais, “not having shared in this particular tradition, but we are all supposed to stir the mixture round, till at last it is completely mixed, and to make a wish while doing so! So could the largest, strongest person at each table start each of the bowls, as of course that’s the worst bit, but everyone should have a go!”

 

The pianist started playing again, and since everyone seemed happy to mix the heavy cake-like mixture, Mozzie came over and asked, “Who’s Liberace? Where’d he come from?”

 

“Sara told me about him. She got involved in an organisation helping people hurt by the wars. Said he couldn’t remember anything much, seemed half not-there, but could play. He seems to have a memory like yours – but only for music, and nothing else. He’s good, isn’t he?”

 

“Will you have Lira fix him?”

 

“Yes. Of course, he could have been born some sort of musical savant, though he does have lots of scars as you can see, but he could always have only known music.

         “No, don’t be horrified – I just wanted him to be able to play for now! If she heals him, I am quite sure he’ll want to rush off to Portland or – or Perth, Australia, for all I know! And there’s another thing…”

 

Mozzie grinned a little. “He’ll get healed. I’m sure, if there wasn’t a party, you’d have brought him anyway and got Lira to help.”

 

“Lira already healed everybody else there. Now Sara and El can help them become re-established for their futures. Not sure what the nurses, doctors and so on will think about the improvement in everyone, but Sara says they’ll be thrilled, there are lots of others that need their help.”

 

“Oh, I like this tune!”

 

“He can really play! But he’s extremely damaged, mentally. When I saw him the first time, I asked him if he could play lots of Christmas music, he asked me for requests, and anything I could think of, he played. But hardly said a word. Then - ”

 

“What’s his name?”

 

“That’s one of the things…I think he’s perhaps one of us, which is why I want to get him healed when we’re alone with Lira. He said his name was Chuck. But one of the nurses came in and called him Joey, and he acknowledged her. So I think he’s used to different aliases.”

 

“Oh, a criminal or conman with no memory, or no reliable memory at least! How scary would that be, Neal! It’s our greatest asset!”

 

“And then when I went to ask if we could borrow the piano – well, rent it, I suppose, I paid them well for it! – he was playing Grieg… _beautifully!_ Concerto in A minor I think. And from memory. But _then_ when I went up he spoke – hardly looked in my direction, but he spoke, and he corrected me and said his name was Andrew, and he thought Chopin was his invisible friend, he kept talking to him. Not Grieg, though he was playing Grieg – _Chopin!_ I mean, this dude has been badly injured, and no-one has had the time or means to help him!”

 

“Well, either Lira will, or if he still has memory loss, perhaps we can find this Claire of Peter’s!”

 

“Oh, great idea, Mozzie! Thank you! I want this guy well. The nurses were a little worried about us taking him out for the weekend – thank heavens I went there with Sara – but apparently he’s never violent or anything.”

 

“You want everyone well, happy, healthy, rich.”

 

“Yeah, so? Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

 

Mozzie just laughed.

 

 

 

When everyone had combined the mixtures in the bowls completely, the Betchem slaves came and fetched them, bringing wine and ale and many types of snacks on their way in.

 

“Don’t eat too much supper,” Neal suggested. “We are having as close as possible to a traditional Christmas dinner tomorrow – that means lots of food!”

 

“It seems to be working so far, keeping everyone apart,” Moz noted.

 

“Probably won’t continue, but there you go. Have to be vigilant. I wasn’t going to be exclusive. It’s a party!”

 

“I think I shall have Lucilla quickly embroider a T-shirt for you, shall I? Just so we don’t forget. _It’s a party!_ You could wear it always!”

 

Neal made a face at him. “ _Sometimes_ it’s a _game!_ I need to go – you should come, too – and stir the bowls. It’s good luck. I think we’re safe now, everyone is sitting talking round the tables and stuffing their faces.”

 

“You okay? Not exhausted?”

 

“No. Other than collecting everyone we didn’t know – you know what I mean – oh, and bringing the birds – I had little to do yesterday or the day before. But today and especially tomorrow – more difficult. I made sure everyone left their swords at the door, said there would be innocent and completely ignorant children, which worked. Of course, various hot heads might have back-ups.”

 

“Not sure I need to go into the kitchen. Kitchens not my favourite places…you wouldn’t believe the lack of hygiene in some of them!”

 

“This is _Betchem!_ Now Sunder…hmm…not so sure, but here, Steel, Laffaysham, and especially Camber – you know how fussy cheeses can be. And you _have_ to come – one of your main objectives in life is stirring!”

 

“Oh, haha, Caffrey made a joke!”

 

“Come on!”

 

As they were leaving the dais, Susan came running over and gave Neal a hug. “Thank you! You did this all for me?”

 

Neal hugged her back. “No, Susan, though I admit our conversation did start me thinking! No, this is for all of us! I thought we needed something to make us feel at home. And please – talk to the Earthlings who did go home, see if you’d like to?”

 

They walked away and she went back. Moz looked at him. “You really shouldn’t hug everyone, Neal. It confuses them!”

 

“Abby on NCIS does! My favourite episode is the one about the Sexual Harassment Seminar that no-one took any notice of, where Abby was so upset that the rest of the team might hate her hugging them!”

 

“She’s a woman, Neal. Different rules apply!”

 

“I knew you watched it! Hah!

         “And they shouldn’t!”

 

“I’m just warning you. And I might never have watched – Abby is unlikely to be a man!”

 

“Too late! Caught you!”

 

Mozzie put his nose up and ignored him.

 

 

 

Neal and Mozzie carefully washed their hands under the threatening gaze of the Head Cook. Neal might con Lord Betchem, but she would be a different level of dangerous! And there were so many weapons in the kitchen!

         Then they went down the counters, stirring a bowl here or there, and making wishes before carefully sticking the back of a wooden spoon into the puddings in a semi-random pattern and adding the gold and silver and platinum charms and coins Neal had brought and washed earlier, and divided to give each pudding an equal amount.

 

“I have about twenty extra, to make sure all the children get at least one. There aren’t many kids. But someone told me the wheel must always be crooked at Christmas to the benefit of the children!”

 

Mozzie smiled at him, one of those sweet Moz smiles.

 

 

 

Joey, Chuck or Andrew – or whoever he thought he was today - quietly nodded when Neal approached him, took his arm and went with him to the table and sat and ate. The girls next to him asked him how he had learnt to play so many songs, but he just shrugged and seemed very shy, so they left him alone.

 

Joster came over to where Neal was standing, and said, quietly, “They are having fun, Neal. You are happy?”

 

“I am sure we will have a few disputes, Joster. Nothing serious, I hope, I just want to stop that before it escalates. At present, they all look thrilled! The ones who were here as slaves just bubbled over with glee at the thought of bringing their friends here! They had been ridiculed till many of them ceased to speak of it, and felt isolated!

         “And tomorrow, once we get back here and settled, you and Merritt are in charge of hanging the extra flags we brought? It is vitally important, you can do it while we are out in the snow, ready to return.”

 

“You can trust us, Neal.”

 

“I am – with my skin! _Please_ do not forget!”

 

“This seems a vast and complicated undertaking and I understand most of it not, Neal.”

 

“Did you have special celebrations before you became a slave, Joster?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, I hope you can think of these as taking their place. Many of the Earthlings elected to stay here, but there are fewer than ten humans per Keep, and though they may share some memories, most have not found someone from Earth who is a real friend, sharing values and interests. They stayed because they didn’t want to go back to a war zone, many had lost all their families…basically why many slaves stay in service even once emancipated.”

 

Joster nodded, that was why he and Merritt would not leave. Steel, and the people there, including Neal, were their family, their allegiance, now. Neal went on, “I want them to talk to people who did go back, see if they still want to stay.”

 

“The Lords will not be pleased if their slaves all leave, Neal!”

 

Neal shrugged. “I will pay them well, they can buy three new slaves easily. No-one should want a reluctant slave! It would be very tedious indeed! I find it so when you and Merritt are just a little miffed with me!”

 

Joster laughed, and Neal joined in. Peter, who every now and then glanced up to see where Neal was, made a bit of a face and Diana, sitting next to him noticed and said, quietly, “Not the criminal you caught, Boss. Different animal.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Seriously!”

 

“I have thought he had changed before! But people don’t really change, Diana. He’ll always go about things in ways I can’t predict. That’s who he is! He’s never totally upfront – oh, he _has_ an up-front, but there’s a whole lot going on behind the scenes. It may not be criminal, but I’ll bet you he’s got six potential agendas going on at once! He always did.

         “None of them might bear fruit, he jettisons those that have too small a chance of success as circumstances change before they entangle those fleet heels of his! – but they’re there, aces up his sleeve and lock-picks in the hem of his jacket!”

 

Diana laughed, thinking back. “Yes! You’re saying he’s a survivor and tries to think ten steps ahead and have a back-up plan!”

 

“Exactly. Always playing six games of chess at once! And a back-up plan of a back-up plan of a back-up plan, all of which are designed to disappear without leaving a trace if he doesn’t use them! But – he always was a good, if criminal person, and that hasn’t changed, either.”

 

“And you’re watching him because…?”

 

“Because I always did, that’s how I caught him, and because he’s the smartest man in the room, except Mozzie, and there is _no_ point watching Mozzie, never the front man, and Neal is like a three-ring circus, just a whole lot of fun to watch! Every now and then you think you can see how he got the rabbit into the locked waterproof trunk in the ten-foot-deep aquarium, but guess what – you just saw what he wanted you to see, and you realise later it couldn’t have been that, but because you thought you had the solution, you didn’t keep watching!”

 

“Shall I tell him you’re still such a fan?” She smiled that beautiful if mischievous smile.

 

“No! And that’s an order!” Peter’s face softened into a grin. “I think he suspected, early on, anyway.” He was thinking of all the little cards and origami storks and stars and the damned sucker-wrapper that, through all the heart-break, he’d kept.

 

“Keep trusting him, Boss.”

 

“I’ll try. That was what went wrong. I stopped.”

 

Diana had never got the whole story, but though Peter might be the Archaeologist, always digging, she was far better at jig-saw puzzles, and had a pretty good idea of the whole debacle. Peter turned away to answer some comment of El’s and Di saw Neal walk out of the room with two women. Perhaps he was up to something! Dash Peter, now he’d made her feel antsy! Tammy, without looking, patted the back of Diana’s hand and made her feel all better!

 

 

 

Neal ate very little. He never did eat a great deal, and wanted to enjoy the meal tomorrow, by which time he hoped everyone and everything would have settled down and he could truly relax. He was still on edge about the success of the whole, complicated plan. Just getting the food here in a healthy manner had taken some forethought! He ate enough of a snack, weighted towards protein, to balance a single glass of local wine.

 

Then he announced to everyone that they would have a dance after dinner, so if they could wear some comfortable shoes – and they would try several dances, including local ones. Almost everyone perked up and started talking more loudly, and Neal left the room.

 

When he got back to the Steel suite, June was there, to his surprise. “I have to get dressed, too, Neal. But, dear, I hear rumours that you are getting betrothed at this shindig!”

 

“Litha wants us to, June, love, and there isn’t any reason not to.”

 

“Do you know her? Have you been through the relationship process?” she asked as she followed him into his room. Merritt appeared, saw Neal was talking and went to help Brak with the Lord’s clothing. June closed Neal’s door and sat down.

 

“It isn’t as though she’s Kate, or Alex, June. She looks into my soul and knows me and says she knows I love her and we’ll get along well. It seems pointless to wait. I did, you know – I left her and tried to forget her for a very long time.”

 

“I know. And I don’t really mean that you need to get to know each other, though I am quite sure you haven’t spoken about important things! Children, which planet you’re going to live on…is she supposed to just adjust to your way of life after a relatively secluded childhood with her family?

         “But there is a process to a good relationship and if you miss it, you never get it back unless you hit such a speed-bump that it derails the whole marriage and then, sometimes, you have to start again.”

 

Neal turned and studied her face. He admired her so much that he was always ready to take her advice, though she gave it very rarely…she’d saved his life several times, sometimes emotionally, sometimes literally!

 

“Explain, June, would you?”

 

June hesitated. “You’re going to think I’m a stick-in-the-mud.”

 

“Lotus flowers are stick-in-the-muds, and they are exquisite!” Neal chuckled. He put his chosen clothing aside, even though he was aware of the passage of time and problems that might arise. He sat and took her hand. “I promise I will listen and not judge you or your advice without giving it very close attention, dearheart.”

 

“Well, you know, when I was young - ”

 

“A little younger, you mean!” Neal insisted, pressing her hand.

 

She smiled at him. “A little younger, then – young folks didn’t meet on a Friday evening, have a pop and a bag of French fries and jump into bed without finding out the other’s last name!”

 

She searched Neal’s eyes, dark and serious, and went on, “It’s called sexual freedom, the Pill made it possible and so on and on…but I doubt if it represents freedom at all. Perhaps it should, but people don’t seem to feel they have a choice. Now, if they’re not sexually active, emotionally detached, there’s something wrong with them. They throw away virginity as early as possible as though it was a curse, an indictment proving they are unlovable, unfit!”

 

Again she waited, again he said nothing, so she continued, “I think because girls were not supposed to get pregnant in the days of my girlhood, and abstinence was the only way to avoid that, and because marriage was supposed to last a lifetime, we wanted to get it right. It wasn’t a restriction for most of us, it was a blessing. Though I think more of the males had flings, because they could.

        ........“Do you know, before the wars, statistics in the USA showed that teenage boys who were sexually active had a sixfold chance of committing suicide compared to those who weren’t? I personally think the sexual activity and the suicide both stem from lack of self-worth or self-esteem, but the survey’s didn’t indicate anything further than the basic facts.

         “I would hazard that a large per cent age of people today spend more time researching the next car they are going to buy, or the next vacation they’re taking, than researching their sexual partners or planning a life together when they feel the time is right, or finding out who will have total care of their shared children if they are killed.”

 

Neal’s brows came a little closer together, puzzled rather than annoyed. He said, “I know what you believe, June, but my life hasn’t been one that lends itself to long-term planning.”

 

“You know a tiny bit of what I believe, Neal. And I am not asking you to believe what I believe! This isn’t a sermon, I hope! - this is a bit of advice, because I know from the time you were a teenager you were running here, there and everywhere, conning and forging and squeezing out of the grip of The Law, and even when you came to stay with me you truly never did know what was going to happen from Monday to Tuesday, which is why you just lived with that furniture!…one day about to be released, legally, next on a plane to a tropical island… Cape Verde is tropical?

         “With that kind of life, it’s very natural to snatch at pretty things, including girls, when the opportunity presents itself.”

 

Neal coloured a little. “I’m not really like that, June. I want to care…”

 

“I know. But darling, you never have practiced it until you met Lord Steel.”

 

“I loved _you,_ June!”

 

“And you loved Peter, and El, and Mozzie. But it wasn’t the same. Mozzie would have followed you – or visa versa – anywhere, two peas in a pod, but you always had a go-bag, or six, ready, had to be ready to leave me, or Peter. You were ready and you _did,_ when you had to.

         “Now there’s us – Moz, Sally, Diana and Tammy and Theo, Steel, those two lovely boys of yours, and me, and you feel more permanent. But none of us is your wife, Neal.”

 

“So you think we shouldn’t get betrothed?”

 

“I think you shouldn’t jump into bed with someone before other things happen.

         “You know, Byron and I once sat in a boat – it was freezing and drizzling, but not enough to stop the mosquitoes biting! – and we hardly noticed. We just stared into each other’s eyes for over an hour. Sounds boring, certainly unromantic! - or a waste of time…but it was the most wonderful time!” She was smiling a wistful smile.

         “The first eight months or so, we didn’t touch each other, except to hold hands, or he’d help me into a car and later on we went dancing…and every touch was so exciting, filled with promise! Anticipation! Like electricity going through me. I don’t think it’s like that if every night you’re having sex from day one!

         “Do you know how much you can say, just touching each other’s hands?” She smiled, and Neal saw through her eyes the magic of that period of her life.

         “He was my hero. He was there, waiting for me, protecting me, protecting my innocence, planning everything with me. Most of the plans didn’t happen, but oh, we enjoyed the planning!

         “And I was his princess! I wrapped my arms around my chastity, a most precious gift to give him when we married.”

         She shook her head a little. “I know this sounds as though I lived in the Dark Ages, Love, but perhaps just don’t rush everything! If you are planting a garden along the way, it is better to walk along the path than jet above it. Every step is so beautiful!”

 

“B-but June…”

 

“I’m not sure it’s the same for men. Perhaps not. But just think for a moment of your wedding night with Litha. Now would you have preferred not to have shared that with anyone before? Because most women I spoke to when I was younger would have preferred to have kept that just for their husband. For it to be truly exclusive. To be able to go back and make the casual affairs unhappen.”

 

Neal wasn’t sure what to say, swallowed, then tried, “June, you know I’m – you know I had women when I was with you…”

 

“Oh, I know, dear. I’m not judging you, sweet boy! How you didn’t implode from loneliness sometimes, I don’t know!”

 

“So it isn’t the same – at least as far as the purity goes! It was one of the reasons I backed off, I felt I wasn’t offering Litha what she would be offering me – what she _is_ offering me!”

 

June swallowed, and there was a long pause before she went on, “I – there isn’t anyone alive who knows this, but I wasn’t without experience when I met Byron. Something happened when I was fourteen. It wasn’t my choice, you understand.”

 

Neal felt a shock go through him and he moved right next to her and put his arm round her warmth. “You were raped, June?” he asked, softly. He felt her nod against his shoulder and he said, low and cold, “I wish the son-of-a-bitch was still alive, I’d run him through… excru…ciating…ly ...slowly….with an exceedingly blunt, salted blade.”

 

June chuckled, sat up and smiled at him. “I’ll bet you would, too!”

 

“I hope he’s frying in hell!”

 

“If he is, my prayers are in vain.”

 

“You forgave him?”

 

“Yes. I didn’t want to carry that around with me, didn’t want to carry _him_ around with me! – I put it right down at the altar and left it there! I don’t remember from one decade to the next! I am _not_ a victim, and I was healed long before I met Byron.

         “I did tell him, (his reaction was much like yours!) and it took a while to get him to understand that it may have _happened_ , but it didn’t take away my purity, or my virginity. I had never made love to anyone, someone had attacked me, I was healed and it was shut off in the past. If Byron hadn’t been man enough to understand, he wouldn’t have been man enough for me to marry.” She lifted her chin. “And I think it made Byron, who was already a conman, feel he could be something special to me, that I needed him.”

 

“You are quite a woman, June Ellington! I so often wish I was older!”

 

“Sorry, dear, all that special stuff I gave to Byron. I love you and Mozzie, and Steel, and my family, of course. But all the glowing love of marriage I gave to my Byron. Forever. I am not surprised he met you when you died. He’s waiting for me, just as he did when we were courting!”

 

They smiled at each other for a while, then Neal said, “But I was not raped, dear! I enjoyed the times I spent with my girls! I loved them all, even when I doubted it would last a week or two!”

 

“How long, and don’t tell me, just think – how long since you made love to a woman?”

 

Neal shifted uneasily. “Ridiculously long time, June.”

 

“You think you haven’t kept yourself pure for Litha, then?”

 

“So virginity renews itself?” he smiled, disbelievingly.

 

“I sometimes wish you understood my beliefs, truly! But yes. You aren’t a libertine, Neal, I think you’ve proved that to yourself! You wear the half-knot here, and I believe you could have found yourself a slave or two willing to share a bed for a trinket and the chance to bear a possible heir to Steel.”

 

“I never even _thought - !”_

 

“Exactly! And though Earth has reverted to a more conservative approach to many things since people have lost so much, I think a man as beautiful as yourself could have bounced into bed with any number of pretty girls.

         “Including Sara and Alex, no?”

 

Neal thought a bit. “You’re saying, take it slow and enjoy the ride?”

 

“The journey, Neal, the journey. You can enjoy the ride later!” June chuckled and rose and it took Neal a moment to tumble to her teasing. He stood and hugged her, laughing. She went on, “Or of course, you can jump into bed with the charming girl as soon as you can, just as Mozzie and Sally did, they seem happy enough! Just know your choices, Neal.”

 

“June, you are a wicked, wicked woman for someone so wise and pure!”

 

“That’s me! And sorry to preach at you, a little. But you never had a mother or a father, and I don’t think Mozzie is qualified…”

 

Neal laughed with her. “No! No, Mozzie can lecture on many things! Human relationships are not his strong suit!

         “Now, dear, I have to ask you to leave, I must dress and go and referee!”

 

 

 

 

 

 End of Chapter 2

 

 

 

I would like comments, of course, and should I bring the glossary chapter from Out of Breath and make it a last chapter here?

 

 


	3. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a few levels...a dance

 

 

 

Steel was all ready to go down when Neal exited his room.

 

“My son, you have confused Lord Betchem! He knows not what mischief you are planning. And where did you get the Earth musical instrument, Neal?”

 

“New York, my Lord. And there is no mischief! It is purely designed for the benefit of everyone, this party!”

 

Steel took a deep breath. “I meant, and you probably know this, how did the instrument come to be here at Betchem!”

 

“It is lovely, is it not? It is a Fazioli, and worth a small fortune. It was donated to the Home Sara works with because the original owner was killed in the wars, and there was some surface damage, but the tone is gorgeous! I would love to play, and if I knew of someone patient enough to teach me, I would probably buy it, especially if Joey can be healed.

         “The only better make, most experts agree, is a Bösendorfer, but I could not find one to rent on short notice, and it is on the mellow side for a room this size, even with the good acoustics.

         “And - ”

 

“Neal! I did not mean you to tell me the entire history of the thing!”

 

“Oh, the _make_ is a Fazioli, the full name of the instrument is a pianoforte, which in Italian, a language of our planet, means ‘soft-loud’, which sounds odd, but most instruments of the time did not have the range of volumes - ”

 

**_“How did you get it here?”_ **

 

“Lira translated it here, my Lord. It is to her as nothing…she moved all your Earthling slaves, remember, and they probably weighed - ”

 

“Why did you not mention it?”

 

“I thought it was unnecessary. I did tell Lord Betchem that I would bring the supplies I thought essential for the party, he gave me his full permission!” Neal looked and sounded aggrieved and a little hurt.

 

“I think he imagined merely food, Neal. Then there were the large trees, nothing compared to the size of the trees here, but a surprise to Lord Betchem, and then that - ?”

 

“Piano, my Lord.”

 

“Piano? Yes. He wonders what other oddments you might be transporting from Earth. He is looking at you as Peter sometimes did.”

 

“There is all the food, my Lord. Otherwise, there are no surprises left to come from Earth, I do not think.”

 

“I can assure him of that?”

 

Neal thought a moment. “Truly, think of anything else we still need from Earth I can not. Not for this party, my Lord.”

 

Steel gazed into those wide, guileless, beautiful eyes and felt another pang of sympathy for Peter. “I will tell him, Neal.”

 

“I should go and join the guests, my Lord, if that is all?”

 

“Go in peace, my son!” Steel said, shaking his head, then asked, seeing something in Neal’s walk, “So I can assure Lord Betchem there are no more surprises?”

 

Neal leaned back in the door, grinned hugely and said, “Oh, surprises? – yes, there will be surprises, my Lord! It is a party!” and he vanished. Lord Steel sighed and wondered if he might prevail upon Lira to lie and say he was needed urgently back home?  
  
_But the Chiri never lie!_

 

Lord Steel sighed again, and followed his son.

 

 

Joey was playing a waltz as Neal entered the room – the Tennessee Waltz! Many couples were already dancing. One of the first lot of Steel Keepers must have requested it! Neal grinned and stretched his neck a little, trying to find his various quarries. Then he saw the long, leggy form walking directly towards him dressed in a V-necked leotard in dark lavender with a matching three-quarter-length chiffon skirt over it and matching one inch heel shoes. He took two steps towards her and said, “You walk like a dancer, you know? Hadn’t really put that together.”

 

“I did ballet. Good training for almost any physical pursuit!”

 

                 - and then Neal was shoved violently to one side and Peter hissed, venomously, “ ** _Rachel Turner!_** How the **_hell_** did you get here!”

 

The piano was silenced. The hostility washed through the crowd, and it turned to the source like flowers towards the sun.

 

Neal righted himself, straightened his clothing and sighed…at least this was happening now, _get it over with!_

         He glanced over and Diana, Tammy and Jones were advancing on the woman, who stood quietly, demurely, that maddening little smile on her face, subtly daring them! A step behind her stood Alex, about to get involved vocally if not physically! Alex had no love for FBI Agent Burke! Joster and Merritt, far back of the crowd, sent Neal helpless and apologetic looks over the heads of the shorter guests. The rest of the Earthlings formed a ring…

 

… _like people appearing out of nowhere at an accident, like kids appearing from the cracks for dropped sweets, like anyone anywhere appearing for floating bank-notes…!_

 

“Hallo, Peter,” Rebecca said, amused, teasing.

 

“You’re a murderer, a stalker, a spy and - ”

 

Neal took a deep breath and pushed the two antagonists apart with a firm hand on either shoulder and moved determinedly between them.

         “Rebecca, take a step back and stop poking the Minotaur with a stick! **_Quiet!_** Yes, I know what you want, and I don’t care – we had an agreement, remember? Now shut up and keep your word!”

 

Rebecca shut up, folded her hands and took a step away from the FBI. Neal glanced at her and said, “And it might help if you lose the ‘Basic-Instinct-everyone-she-plays-with-dies’ smile!” She blinked at him and pouted a little. Alex smiled, instead.

 

_And that’s the easy part! Dealing with a finely-tuned assassin with the best training in the world, with the possible exception of Mossad! And she probably **was** Mossad at some point! Now for the **hard** part - !_

“Peter,” Neal said, clearly but with a deep calm he didn’t really feel, “this woman calls herself Rebecca now. She was a slave here and Lira healed her. There is no evil in her now, more than the usual in a brilliant Earthling female. She’s changed, Peter.

         “And this is not your jurisdiction, this is mine and - ”

 

Peter didn’t take his eyes off his quarry and interrupted him without a thought. “She told you she’s **_changed!_** Well, how convenient! With all the wealth here and her skills, and you allow her here – no, let me guess, you _brought_ her here! Brilliant, Caffrey! You believe this woman - ”

 

Neal spoke louder, harder and drowned him out in turn, “ - who says she’s changed. Lira and Litha both confirmed that before I brought her, Peter. I didn’t just take her word for it…as I did yours.”

 

Somehow, in a mass of many more than a hundred people, a sudden silence fell and every eye seemed to be riveted on Peter. He dragged his eyes from Rachel and looked into Neal’s, and Neal was right up in his face, and there was no softness in him. Peter blinked. Neal’s face was a stern, high-cheek-boned, clenched jawed, tight-lipped steel sculpture. Dangerous.

 

Something, something that was not quite fear, fluttered within Peter’s chest.

 

Then Neal moved away a couple of inches and continued, a little more gently, “I would never have endangered anyone by bringing her here. I vetted _everyone_ I didn’t know, wasn’t sure of. That’s why Kitran fetched you, you had no guests with you. All the guests and all the…people I was ambivalent about,” he shrugged apologetically at Rebecca, who grinned back, “…I had the two people I trust to _*Read*_ most look into their souls before we brought them. I am not an idiot and I am not irresponsible, Peter. You should start to believe that.”

 

Neal took a step back and raised his voice, smiled at the gathering and said, “As the police always tell us, ‘Nothing to see here…!’ Joey! Play Moon River for me, would you?”

 

Joey’s long fingers rippled across the black and white keys and the Earthlings not immediately involved moved off a little reluctantly.

 

Neal was amused. _Too much Irish blood in here! Any good party should have a fight!_

 

“Are you **_sure_** , Neal? She’s so good – bad - !”

 

“Ask Lira.”

 

Peter stood looking awkward. Again Neal wanted to grin. _Gear-box is permanently damaged! Damned hard to get the Burkemobile into reverse once it’s set a course!_

 

But Peter surprised Neal – and everyone watching – by clearing his throat and saying, “If that’s correct, I’m sorry, Rebecca. I – I know how we can be damaged.”

 

Rebecca’s eyes opened wide. She stepped forward and put a hand on Peter’s wrist…he flinched, but didn’t defend himself!...and said, “Thank you, Peter. I know what I did, but I was hurt before, multiple traumatic brain injuries. Lira told me all about it when I was here, as a slave. I still have the skills, but I feel different now. I am sorry for everything I did to you and your team. I’ve already apologised to Neal for how I used him.”

 

Peter’s eyes flicked to the side and he sighed and went on sarcastically, “I suppose Alex has been healed as well? After all, _she’s_ only a very skilled thief, conman and fence?”

 

Alex smiled wickedly at him. “This Lira you’re so fond of vetted me, too, Peter, agreed that – at least temporarily – I am just here for the party!”

 

Peter looked straight at Neal and said, “Just as a baseline test, did Lira ever test Caffrey?”

 

Neal grinned broadly, then put his finger to his lips. “Shhh, Peter! Don’t spoil my fun!”

 

Peter grinned down at him and moved off and his supporters with him, sometimes glancing back in astonishment at Rebecca. Neal let out a huge breath of relief.

 

“Sorry, Neal, get through the crowd we could not,” Merritt said, at his side.

 

“Come – you can learn to dance with Rebecca, she’s almost a good size for you – would be in higher heels! - while I dance with Alex!”

 

Alex was a good dancer, and Neal enjoyed himself. “You’re getting betrothed?”

 

He nodded, feeling a little sad. As has been noted, getting one lovely girl means giving up the rest, and though Alex had said she didn’t want him, they had a lot of history together, much of it good, all of it challenging.

 

“I think I was an idiot,” she said, hugging him. “But no-one can wish you a better future, Caffrey!”

 

“We’ve always been friends, Alex,” Neal said, wistfully.

 

“And I think we can stay that way…”

 

“Mozzie really has a job, when this is finished. You’re invited.”

 

“Think you may want to run that past your wife!”

 

At that Litha appeared. She saw Neal and waved, but when he separated a little from Alex, Litha said, “No, no, Neal! I want to see you dance! And this is one of your girlfriends, yes? So if she is your friend, she will be mine, too?” Litha held out her hand, awkwardly, in imitation of an Earthling and Alex, startled, shook her hand.

 

“This is my Litha. She’s a very strong Empath, Alex and can read your emotions so well it is almost as though she is reading your thoughts,” Neal told her.

 

“That’s a little…scary,” Alex said.

 

“I see why Neal loves you, you are very beautiful and very sneaky, clever, as is he!” Litha said. “I am sorry I speak English quite badly. But I will get better!”

 

“I think you are wonderful!” Alex told her, gladdened that Litha wasn’t going to try and do her some damage for being Neal’s lover. “Neal is very good at languages, I only know three, a small amount in about four others!”

 

“Alex will come to our wedding, Neal?” Litha said, happily. “I like your friends. Now go – go and dance! Show me so I can learn!”

 

Neal and Alex danced, and Litha watched them and the other couples. “She’s…unusual, isn’t she?” Alex asked Neal.

 

“Yes, she seems so innocent and then, because nothing is really hidden at her Keep, she says things that would curl my grandmother’s toes, had I ever had one! Grandmother, that is!”

 

“So Rebecca wasn’t lying!” Alex admitted.

 

“Fun, isn’t it?”

 

“Quite the best con you’ve run, being bought as a slave and ending up as the heir! Version of the Sweetheart Con, yes?”

 

Neal smiled. “I had nothing to offer my Lord…that’s different from a sweetheart con! I have changed a little. I love it here, I love my Lord, my father.”

 

“You deserve a family, Neal.”

 

“Will you be a friend to me, to Litha? I would hate to lose that after all these years. Can’t you be my sister or cousin or something? You don’t have a family, either.”

 

“I took a good look at that Lord of yours. Seems that beneath the King, here, Lords are next in line for the power. No dukes! And he’s nice looking! How would you like me for a step-mother?”

 

Neal laughed. “An _evil_ step-mother, Alex!”

 

She grinned brilliantly at him and he twirled her round. This was turning out to be a very good party!

 

After a little while, a Brethsham band played some of their tunes and the Earthlings tried to follow the local country dances. Litha led Neal, Steel danced with June, it was fun, and though the Earthlings were not very good, there was much laughter and no-one took themselves seriously. By this time everyone was hot and thirsty, so the slaves brought through drinks and small snacks and the doors were thrown open for a time to let them go out onto the path, swept clean of snow well into the fields.

 

“We can see we are not on Earth: anyone who has studied or even seen the stars will easily tell this is not a Hollywood soundstage as some have postulated acted as the moonlanding scenery!” Neal tried to find Mozzie to see if he was reacting to the teasing, but couldn’t see him.

 

Everyone looked up because he did, though, and there was the brilliant sky, much more populous with stars, many of them appearing larger than even Venus did, from Earth. Two gibbous moons hung near the horizon, one rather yellow-looking, the other more blue.

 

The sight was met with gasps. Somehow the obviously alien sky was extremely hard to accept. Neal watched the reactions.

 

_Interesting! Even the ancients studied the stars, found solace, saw prophesies, imagined gods and mythical creatures…are we so much the product of our celestial scenery? How does that change the city-dwellers?_

He remembered how being in the city, cut off from the starlight by the aggressive city-lights had made him feel unsafe.

 

 

They returned and it had been Mozzie, rather surprisingly, that had found an Earthling slave living at Sunder who had played a fiddle when he lived in Montana, and brought him one in return for him participating in the musical entertainment at their party. He had agreed if the violin came along with his ‘fiddling clothes’ – plaid flannel shirt, bibbed coveralls, boots! No-one seeing him now would think that normally he wore Sunder-brown leather apron over Sunder-brown workwear. Neal hadn’t seen him when he was there – he’d have remembered the full face-beard, probably only allowable at Sunder!

 

“Who can line-dance?” the man demanded, and a couple of girls said they did, and were immediately designated the instructors and choreographers! Since this form of dance was not unlike Brethsham country dances, quite a number of the locals joined in.

 

“I think we have a hit!” Mozzie grinned, as Neal and Litha joined him at the table to rehydrate!

 

“Let’s keep it to just the one!” Neal said to him. “Thank you for Dwayne over there, he’s hilarious and very good, too!”

 

They sat and talked, remembering the protocols for the morrow, and an Earthling had prevailed upon the pianist and fiddler to play some Celtic music. After a few minutes Neal turned and a very well-built man was showing off – to applause from those standing around him – dancing what looked like a Highland sword dance.

 

Neal did an eye-roll and said to Mozzie, “See? What’s the bet he’s doing that with real swords?” and pushed his chair back and went to be the grown-up. Mozzie went to watch this unusual performance. Not Neal’s usual alias!

 

However, the man had stopped, and was leaning against his shorter, more slender friend, gasping melodramatically and fanning himself.

         “It’s been too many years since I practised that!” he gasped to no-one in particular.

 

“Um - ?” started Neal, and the shorter man saw his face and shoved the weight of the dancer off him.

 

“Sorry, Neal, we know – no swords! But you can’t have a sword dance without swords, can you? Come on, Mac, let’s go and get a drink and take these away! The poor host is right, children – although most of them have gone to bed!”

 

“Most of the people here, adults included, are not used to sharp blades, that’s all,” Neal said, noting that the man was right, there were few children still up.

 

The two strode away, holding the blades discreetly close to their bodies. They walked like warriors, Neal noted, interested.

 

“They are originally from Sunder,” Joster said, seeming to read his thoughts. “No, I mean that not. They _are_ Earthlings, but were slaves at Sunder. Extremely good swordsmen, and strong, good men. I would have liked them to fight for Steel! They came to us after you had left, Neal but would not stay. Said they had to get back, they had to take care of certain things.”

 

“British Earthlings! How did they get the swords in here?” Neal demanded. “I thought we had the weapons all locked down.”

 

Merritt joined them in time to hear this and grinned. “Have you your lock-picks, Neal?” Neal just looked at him. “Well, for a swordsman, it is very hard to leave his sword. Like his right arm. They suddenly put them on the floor, see them carry the weapons in I did not! Like the magic tricks you do!”

 

“So long as they keep them away from everyone else, and we manage to keep them outside tomorrow, I shall ignore it,” Neal shrugged. “No point in getting upset now, anyway.”

 

Neal went over and asked the pianist to play some slow dance tunes…perhaps three, and then pack up. “You’ve been wonderful!” Neal told him. The man glanced up with a shy smile which pulled the scars on the side of his face. Neal felt a pang of conscience for keeping him unhealed till the end of the party! Thank goodness his hands hadn’t been damaged!

 

Sara came up and held out her hand invitingly, and Neal put his out and she nestled her fingers into it and stepped up and Neal’s hand spread firmly on the back of her waist and hers lighted on his shoulder. He smiled at her.

 

They had never danced. This was a waltz and he waited for the beat, shifted his weight, stepped …and she followed him easily. His eyes lit. He loved interacting with a woman this way, it was almost as intimate as making love…which they had done, so very long ago; it seemed a different age!

 

“I had to know the basics of all social interactions when I worked for Sterling Bosch,” she answered the unasked question. “And it’s good exercise and I enjoy it.”

 

“You move nicely,” Neal said, a little awkward, since he’d basically given her the brush off at June’s.

 

“So do you.”

 

Neal was wishing this wasn’t a slow waltz. Other dances leant themselves to some fancy footwork, something that made it a test, a partnership at making the piece work, more like friends challenging each other. A slow waltz was like nothing but romance set to music.

 

“Have you taught Litha to waltz?” she asked, the same outspoken Sara.

 

“Not yet.”

 

“You must.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“I am very sorry about us, but you were always too ..unconventional, I was always just a little too conservative, too legitimate! I followed you across the line now and then, and it was fun, it was a blast, Caffrey – but I was always a little uneasy.”

 

“Always packed a parachute. Kind of the Ellis motto.”

 

“Exactly! And I always had my eye on the line – how many steps back to it?

         “Whereas to you those ventures were yawningly safe, weren’t they?”

 

“I have packed parachutes, but only when jumping out of a plane!”

 

“Or off a building?”

 

Neal ducked his head in slightly bashful acknowledgement. “It has been done. Very risky, easy to tumble and foul the ‘chute, winds swirl unpredictably where there are a lot of buildings, and it is a matter of luck as much as skill. And the parachutes are different.”

 

“I’d have a spare!”

 

“Off most buildings, BASE jumpers don’t bother. There isn’t time, the jump is so much quicker than from a plane. One goes splat before …basically, there is only time for one bite at that apple.”

 

“And you love the adrenaline!”

 

“I – er – if I had ever done something like the stunt we are discussing, I would only risk it if there was no other choice. If the prize was worth it _and_ there was no other choice.”

 

“Not for fun?”

 

“Fun is winning. Not taking silly risks for no reason.”

 

“But - if you had done the stunt Peter thinks you did – you must have practised somewhere!”

 

“It would be foolish not to practise, but not under extreme conditions!”

 

“With the FBI hot on your tail?”

 

“That’s _trail_ , girl!”

 

“Ah, my mistake!” She grinned naughtily.

 

The music stopped and they stood looking at each other. “Peter thought you were an adrenaline junkie…but not so much?”

 

“Not for the rush’s sake.”

 

“For winning.”

 

“Yes. Completing the task successfully, no matter the forces ranged against it!”

 

“Yeah – you two are alike.”

 

“On opposite sides of the …you might say… fence. He likes capturing things. I like liberating them!”

 

“I saw you and him, him reacting to that tall woman…”

 

Neal chuckled. “Poor Peter. I know he just wants to keep people safe – and to do that he tries to arrest anyone who might – just might – change that.”

 

“But they were talking, all the FBI, ex-FBI, whatever they call themselves now – she _was_ dangerous.”

 

“Was.”

 

“And you never endangered anyone.”

 

“Tried not to.”

 

“And he _really_ liked capturing you!”

 

“Oh, listen to it! He stated some facts at my trial. You spewed forth venom and molten brimstone! I didn’t dare look at you…your hair of writhing snakes!…one time I didn’t have a mirror, and I needed one!”

 

She tucked her lips together. “I didn’t like you, then.”

 

“You thought I had your Raphael. It was purely greed – you couldn’t collect your bounty if I – or someone – has – had it. Now greed is such a tacky motive, Sara!”

 

“Which you did. Have it. And what are your motives for stealing and forging?”

 

“Which you assumed I did, but I didn’t. I got it for you later… perhaps. And I told you – liberating beautiful things. Like you out of that ugly wheelchair.”

 

 _“Perhaps?”_ She grinned at him, that wide-eyed grin. No malice now. “And bringing up the wheelchair is pretty tacky!”

 

“We-ell, you do remember who authenticated the piece for you?”

 

For just a moment her face changed, alarmed, then she shook her head. “It would have to have been perfect. A perfect copy. Even you’re not that good.”

 

He smiled and gave her a brief hug. “You just keep telling yourself that. You have to learn, my dear little insurance investigator, that sometimes wisdom is choosing which questions you do not ask! You got your cut! Let it go.

         “And in case you are only just realising it, Ms. Ellis – you and I could have made a great deal of money together, getting people their artwork back, making them happy, splitting the bounty…aaah, if you hadn’t been quite so in love with legitimacy!”

 

Her mouth opened for a moment before she said, “You’d do it, too…!”

 

“In a heartbeat! Lovely crime…really difficult to prove! You bring in what you think is real…the authenticators have their say, you’re off the hook, you live very, very well. I get to test my wits, get the best raw materials, get to try new techniques, help art lovers…oh, yeah! It could have been sweet! Very, very sweet!”

 

She shook her head. “I was your long con, wasn’t I? Only it failed. I never saw that.”

 

“Yeah, well, not everyone is cut out for the life! And it was only one possible outcome of our…understanding.

         “I must be going, long day tomorrow.”

 

“You organised all this?”

 

“Mm. Lots of help, but my idea.”

 

“El is all admiration.”

 

Neal laughed. “Not quite the sort of thing she does. Did. Does?”

 

“No, but I think you have made a great many people happy! You may not have heard the buzz, but I haven’t heard anything negative, other than Peter, Jones and Di wondering about the slender dancer-type.”

 

“Same…” Neal cut off the words.

 

“Same as me? Thank you! – Oh! – so she _was_ your type? No wonder Peter – never mind! Go get some shut-eye, Caffrey.”

 

“Oh, I will. You must, too – don’t worry too much about the Raphael, you should never need have it re-authenticated!” he said casually over his shoulder as he left.

 

Sara watched him walk out of the room, then her eyebrows butted heads over her nose and she muttered to herself, “What does he mean by _that!”_

Litha was waiting in the communal area of the designated Steel suite, with Sally and the Lord, who said, ‘Neal, is Peter calm?”

 

“As calm as Peter ever is, my Lord!” Neal shrugged. “He finds new intelligence – new information that conflicts with his established thoughts – difficult to assimilate.”

 

“Such as that you are no longer a criminal?”

 

“Where do you _get_ these silly ideas, my Lord?”

 

“When did you last commit any crime, Neal!”

 

“My Lord, my Lord! I may be many things, but I am not stupid…even Peter will agree! Why do you think I would answer that? Or are you wanting to enjoy one of my more creative moments?”

 

They grinned at each other. Lord Steel said, “So I should instead go and enjoy a good night’s sleep?”

 

“I would, were I you, my Lord. Never know when you might need extra rest!”

 

Sally stood and said, “Good-night, all of you! Today was a blast!” and went off to join Mozzie.

 

“My son,” Steel asked, “you told me all about the best makes of the instrument you brought, yet you do not play. Why would you know these facts?”

 

Neal smiled a little. “Remember when you asked Mozzie why he took the wagon to the Slavers’ warehouse? One of the things he said was that it is useful …I forget the exact words…it is useful to have something to take home things that are lying around waiting for a new home? Well, it is therefore very useful to know which things are most valuable and take them home! While I have never had the…opportunity …to abscond with a very valuable grand piano, it is always a possibility!”

 

Steel grinned, stood and hugged Neal. He was a little surprised when Neal hugged back and leaned against him and breathed deeply. “All is well, Neal?”

 

Neal nodded. “I am really not designed for politics, even when they are wrapped in party clothes.”

 

Steel leaned away and looked down and Neal smiled tiredly. “I knew Peter – or Diana – would react to Rebecca’s presence. I would have, also, had I not known, I suppose. I was merely fortunate that it was Peter, or I might have been mopping up blood. Not sure whose.”

 

“So why did you bring her?”

 

“Oh, originally, it was just supposed to be her and Diana, and I could have explained to Diana! Peter and El were not on the guest list. But exclude Rebecca I could not, she says she has changed, Lira and Litha agree. And _Peter_ has changed, so I had to ask him and Elizabeth. At one time I wanted to change, thought I could. Peter disagreed. I am not going to judge others that way.”

 

“Why could you not just tell Peter about Rebecca?”

 

“Because he would have become extremely angry and our new-found and still tentative truce would have been destroyed. If I had to, this evening, I could have had Lira and Litha _*Read*_ Rebecca right then and there, in front of his face! The best situation would have been if by some blessing the ex-FBI had not noticed Rebecca in the crowd at all!”

 

“Hm. You wanted to change to please Peter?”

 

“To please Peter, to be able to settled down with them, and June. Mozzie would have stayed close most of the time. It seemed a good way out of all my problems. It is a silly reason to change, or to change someone else, when you think of it.”

 

“Would you change if _I_ asked you? Could you choose not to commit any further illegal acts, now?”

 

“Would that edict extend to Earth?” Neal smiled, standing away.

 

“Shall we say yes, it would? And if it did not?”

 

Neal thought a moment. “It would be easy not to commit crimes here, on Brethsham. And I think I shall say that for the purposes of this discussion, I would agree to stop any criminal activity, if you requested it of me.”

 

“That is an improvement, then, Neal, to before? And why? I mean to ask: why would you stop for me and not for Peter and El?”

 

Again Neal hesitated a sort time before saying, “For the simple reason that you have accepted me as I am for this long, and never tried to change me. You have never – to my knowledge – lied to me, or worked against me with others, or kept valuable information from me. And from very early on in our time together I have never doubted these things, or that you loved me.

         “None of these things are true of Peter when we were, supposedly, working together, even when he called us a partnership.”

 

“But you kept things from him, worked against him, doubted him?”

 

“Oh, yes. I have kept things from you, also, though not for long and nothing important, my Lord. And I did try and work with him at the beginning and he shut me down…um, he would have none of it.”

 

Neal hadn’t realised how alone and disappointed he had felt at that moment, when he and Moz had done so much to catch the Dutchman : found that the original bond had been swapped out, which even the curator had missed, identified Hagen, located the warehouse, all of which Peter could _never_ have done. Peter would have lost the Dutchman into the mists - but when he asked Peter if they could look into Kate when and if they caught the elusive and brilliant forger, Peter would not even discuss it rationally. He stopped being his partner and treated him demeaningly like a love-sick puppy and forced him to go into con-mode, to go it alone.

 

_Could we have saved Kate, together? My needs never mattered because I was a criminal, even though I was only imprisoned at the time he shackled me to the FBI because I was trying to save **Kate.** _

_But he never believed me, never asked any questions about her. Assumed we’d had a lovers’ spat. I hadn’t seen that it was at that moment that deep-seated doubts took root in my soul about Peter, that he would never see me as an equal in any way. Never really see me as a person. Which is why the Motel that disgusted him was an adequate housing for me, thrift store cast-offs good enough clothing. And that’s why June’s lovely place, and Byron’s hand-made suits made him so furious…strange man._

_My Lord takes slaves and elevates them to equal status, as nearly as he can. Peter wanted me abased and mortified. I tried not to see it, certainly was in no position to react to it, but that was not a nice trait in Agent Burke’s soul. I later offered him my heart, but I am so very glad he rejected it._

 

Steel felt some of the feelings, and touched Neal’s shoulder gently. Neal shook off the past and smiled again. “You have always been my friend, my Lord, in the truest sense of the word.”

 

“Peter and myself were not so very different from what you have said, other than that I loved you, and he did not.”

 

“Your love and everything that flowed from that. He seemed to think he loved me, but love means wanting the person to have the best they want, help them get it if you can. He just wanted to give me the best he thought I deserved. Or _what_ I deserved.”

 

“But, Neal, he says he has changed, I thought?”

 

“Yes. That is true. It is easy to forget, I was hurt many times during the years we worked together. He was angry when I worked against him, I was hurt. That is one difference between us.

         “And the reason I say with confidence that I would stop all dubious activity were you to request it, my Lord… one reason is that I do not foresee you asking that of me.”

 

“But if I did?”

 

“I would.”

 

“You are insightful, Neal. I will never do that.”

 

Neal smiled his gentle, loving smile that so few people saw…of all the people in the universe, only Moz and June, Litha and Steel, and every now and then Di, Tammy and Theo. Too revealing. “Good sleep, my Lord.”

 

“And to you, and you, Litha.” Steel left, and Neal sat down by Litha and she drew up her feet and cuddled up to him.

 

“I must also go soon, Litha-love.”

 

“I know. You could have let me run Peter through once, Neal. Not fatally, you understand? And just _once_ , a punishment and a warning?”

 

He knew she had heard all his emotions, and laughed. “He says he has changed. The Earthlings have a saying: the ‘proof of the pudding is in the eating’ – to be sure of anything, you have to sample the goods! - though most people misquote it as ‘the proof is in the pudding’. I have always wanted to hide a gun inside a blancmange for some reason because of that!

         “And he did back down when I explained.”

 

“When you stood up to him with forcefulness,” Litha suggested a correction.

 

“Yes. I admit it, you are perfectly right. I could never do that in our previous situation. He always had the whip hand.”

 

“So now you stay calm and see if he changes towards you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And we are becoming betrothed tomorrow?”

 

“Yes. June spoke to me…” he let her see June’s feelings, and she nodded, thoughtfully. She picked up his hand and stroked it, massaged each finger-tip, and smiled at him.

 

“I will enjoy learning everything about you!” she told him.

 

“And I you – and it will take me longer!” He made a face.

 

“But this,” her finger-tips made gentle circles on his palm and to his surprise he felt his whole body react; his eyes widened, “this is the same for me, for you. It will be fun to wait for our wedding night!”

 

“Actually,” he sniffed, taking his hand back, “it sounds more like exquisitely refined torture!”

 

She gave her gurgle of laughter and leaned over to kiss him deeply. Then she stood and looked down at him. His pupils were shot, his breathing elevated and he wondered if he had to agree with June! Surely not!

 

Litha said, “When we are betrothed, my Lord and Lady, my mother and father will be happy for me to spend much time with you at Steel Keep. We can just wait together, to find out if Peter is going to be good. And wait, while we learn how to pleasure each other.  “They have your word, and even in this you are not a mere man, but the heir to Steel.”

 

“Something else for which to thank my Lord,” Neal said, stood, picked up Litha’s hand and kissed her wrist. “Good sleep, Sweetie.”

 

He left her and went into his room, closed the door and leaned against it, head thrown back, eyes closed. He could still feel her dainty fingertips on his palm, and he closed his fingers over it, as though preserving the sensation, embracing her.

 

“Whew!” he said, softly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 3

Yeah, some comments, let me know...?

 

I had not seen this video of Derek all grown up until I finished this chapter, and certainly Chuck/Joey/Andrew is not in any way like this savant, a different animal altogether, from a different time - but still very worth the viewing! He's amazing, and I would like to do just a little of what he can do, but...sadly...! Guess I'm still pleased with being me.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ak2jxmhCH1M

 

 

 

 

 


	4. The Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Christmas' morning

 

 

 

Neal, somewhat to his surprise, slept and slept deeply and restfully. He often did before a well-planned heist, and that was perhaps what this was, with guests and food! He woke early, stretched, and grinned at the ceiling. _Lots of food._

 

_No, it isn’t a heist. I just want to make everyone happy. Is that so wrong? ‘Course, it might not turn out that way. My poor Lord! **And** Betchem! Lucky we have Lira, because although Lord Betchem is fitter than I am, he might have some sort of episode! And lucky I can jump!_

Neal got out of bed and checked his suit. He wanted this to be perfect. _If_ he got through the rest of the day, he wanted to look special, different, and let Litha know he’d gone to some trouble for her. _That is the highlight of the day for us, anyway._

He shrugged on his robe, took his towel and toiletries and went to shower. He took some time to stand and enjoy it, after washing, just letting the hot water drench him, letting it calm him. _It isn’t a heist. It isn’t even a multi-mark con! It just feels like it!_

He got out, towelled his hair a little, wrapped his towel round his waist and went back to his room carrying his robe and bag, beads of water still sparkling on much of his skin. Joster was already getting things ready for him.

 

“Would it not be a good idea if you told us all that is going to happen, Neal?” Joster said, hopefully.

“You do understand the concept of a surprise, Joster?”

“Yes. I understand it. I do not like it!”

 Neal laughed. “I admit, surprises are often more fun for those who create the surprise than those who experience the surprise – and if anyone ever wants to throw me a surprise party, or something, stop them! People jumping out and yelling at criminals – not good! Definitely not good!”

Joster was not going to be distracted by asking about what surprises had to do with jumping, yelling and criminals. He had already learnt better than that! “I will protect you from all surprises, every one that I can – if you will tell me about your plans for today! Otherwise, I may be so disillusioned by your lack of trust that I will probably not notice any.”

 Neal paused in his sorting of clothing and gave his man a Look. “You, my servant and slave are proposing to blackmail me with the hideous threat of undisclosed parties?”

 Joster looked abashed. “Sorry, Neal.”

 Neal grinned. “No, _now_ you are learning! The best leverage it is not, but you work with what you have! I yield – ask Merritt to join us, and while you are shaving me, I will explain.”

 

By the time Merritt and Joster left to get ready themselves, they were wondering if it wouldn’t have been better not to know! Neal had to remind them that they were in no way liable, being mere vassals of the heir, in no way personally responsible! No-one could fault them for being loyal, every Lord wanted that from his men!

 Neal, now feeling perfectly comfortable within himself, well-dressed and shaven and poised (even if on a rapier-blade!), bounced downstairs to greet the Day.

 At the tables during the light breakfast, a great many Earthling slaves whispered at him, or came over to ask him about their Christmas gifts. The guests had received Christmas cards and scarves crafted at the Steel Keep textiles by journeymen and the most promising apprentices there. Neal kept answering the queries by reiterating that it was exactly as explained, but the Lords had to sign off on it, too, and they would only be joining them in a few candlemarks.

 

After breakfast Neal, Mozzie, Joster and Merritt bundled the Earthlings in borrowed winter clothing and led them outside, where Neal had gathered as many extra sleighs as he could, and he asked who would prefer to ride in a sleigh or on a local version of a horse?

 Most elected the sleighs, of course. It was warmer, they could cuddle with friends or loved ones and apart from a small minority, most had little to no experience on a horse at all, of any origin. Many came and petted the larger, fluffier horses brought out for Neal, his men, and a few stalwart souls, including, to Neal’s amusement, the sword-dancing pair.

 There were Betchemen from their stables as well as Steel Keepers driving the sleighs, and the horse-riders waited a little to see them all leave safely, going for a trip around the lake, which would allow them to see the Keep from behind, and then round to the front. All the sleighs had been fitted with bells. The Earthlings would definitely expect it at Christmas! Neal had sighed, because it naturally led to the singing of his least favourite Christmas song, but who was he to spoil their fun?

 After the voices and tinkling of the bells faded, the rest mounted up and those new to these horses and these saddles – still without stirrups – got settled as they moved off at a walk.

 “Anyone feel they’d rather get a sleigh, speak now!” called Neal. “We kept one back for such an eventuality!”

 But everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, so he touched Simma’s sides with his calves and eased them all into a trot, as the horses followed happily, some throwing their heads about a bit with less experienced riders, and just enjoying the fresh morning air.

 After a brief canter, which everyone managed, Neal eased them back to make sure, and a tall, thin man, the brother of a man who had been a slave here, said, “Can we take them to a gallop? I might never have the opportunity again!”

“How experienced are you all?” Neal asked. “Happy to gallop?”

 “I was a mounted policeman many of my years in the force,” the man said.

 Neal grinned. How typical, that he’d be riding with a policeman! “You two have experience?” he asked the sword-dancing man and his friend.

 “Enough to stay on,” the bigger one – Mac? – said, and his friend grinned and ducked his head. Neal observed this and wondered what secrets they were keeping and if they also needed to avoid the policeman!

 One woman with a bluegrass accent had ridden horses all her life, and these were just a little bigger and broader, and the rest just nodded, so Neal said, “You felt it a little in the canter, but in the gallop it is more dramatic: these horses have longer, more flexible backs, like cats, think of the video’s of cheetahs. Let’s do it then, but pull up if you start to feel uneasy.”

 Soon they were pelting along, the frigid wind blowing their breath away, the horses stretching and bounding with delight. Neal could hear the Earthlings laughing, and felt good about his efforts. Some of these were slaves, but not at Steel, and would never get the chance on a horse. One of these was Susan, who had ridden as a child, he knew. She was smiling despite the cold, and he waved at her and she waved back.

 When he saw some of the riders seem to tire a little, he eased them back to a canter and then a trot. They were catching up to the sleighs, and he didn’t want that.

 “That was splendid!” Susan exclaimed, pulling her hood straight. “Oh, I haven’t ridden for so long!”

 “What glorious animals!” Mac’s friend said.

 “Thank you so much, Sir!” a Sunderite said in an Aussie accent, and Neal shook his head.

         “Neal will do.”

 “Neal, then. I loved horses on Earth, used to clean out stables for saddle time, wanted to be a world-class jockey – till this happened!” he waved at himself, all six-foot-two.

 The others laughed. Susan said, “You could have done steeplechasing? Those jockeys are much taller!”

 “And have a pronounced death-wish! Flat racing is bad enough!” he told her.

 “That’s true enough! I’m Susan, by the way.”

 “I’m Eric.”

 “Mac,” the large dancer said.

 “Melissa,” said the bluegrass woman,

 “Dwight,” was the policeman.

 “Adam,” Mac’s friend nodded round.

 

Soon the little company had all shared their first names. There was also Phil, Derek, Mike, Freda, Abby and Andrew – not the pianist, who had looked wistfully at the horses, but elected to get into a sleigh with Mozzie and Sally. Neal promised himself that when Lira had healed the man, he’d take him out riding if he wanted to go!

 “How did you come to be an heir, here? You’re an Earthling!” Dwight asked, and there was an edge to his voice.

_Wonder if all law enforcement personnel are terminally suspicious! That sounded just like Peter used to when he found I’d been, with nothing in mind but good food, to a new restaurant!_

Neal explained briefly, though the policeman looked unconvinced. Neal looked him straight in the eye and said, “I have no criminal record, here or on Earth!”

 “Oh, no, no, wouldn’t think of thinking that!” Dwight said, and Neal gave him an _oh-yeah_ look.

 

 “So when did you learn to sword-dance?” Neal turned and asked Mac.

 “Long ago, Neal. Seems like I’ve done it my whole life…well, not done it all the time, you understand, just from ages ago.”

 “What do you do on Earth? You must have thought you had something to go back to.”

 “As a living…? Well, I dabble in antiques, mostly, but I thought I might be able to help…able-bodied man, you know.”

 “And you?” Neal asked Adam, on his other side.

 “I’m an accountant, close enough,” said Adam, “though I like tracking genealogies, that sort of thing, on the side – how Mac and I met. He sometimes has old records, family Bibles with records in the front, useful details.

         “And it was also going back and seeing which friends had made it through okay.

         “And you didn’t?” His intelligent penetrating eyes searched Neal’s face.

 “No,” Neal said. “Stayed here. Seemed that there was more here for me. I know that sounds odd to anyone who hasn’t been a slave here under a good Lord, we have a very prejudiced view of slavery, but it isn’t like the terrible stories we heard as children, not here – not for me. Quite a few of us chose to stay – there are twenty-nine here today, and some decided not to attend.”

 “I was quite happy at Sunder. If your Lord hadn’t found a way, I’d have lived there a long time. We both would,” Mac said, with his deep voice.

 “You should have tried to escape!” one of the guests, Phil, told the slaves – and Neal – with definite note of criticism in his voice.

“Where would we have gone?” Susan asked, as Mac said, “Why? Stupid thing to do, especially at first!”

“It’s like being a prisoner of war! Your duty to escape.”

 “They torture runaways to death,” Neal told him, shortly. “Aside from that, we had no idea where to go and if there was any way to get back to Earth. Lord Steel was trying to find a Slave Ship that knew where we had been taken from – we didn’t know. Where exactly do you think Earth is, from here, and how far?”

 Phil blinked.

 “We also didn’t speak the language, didn’t know the customs, we had been beaten aboard the ship and many of us were sick and disorientated at first,” Adam told him. “And once we thought things through, it seemed we needed a very good and failsafe plan…and we weren’t badly treated, and we thought that Earth might quite literally not exist any more.

         “And then his Lord, Lord Steel, was sending slaves back, Earth still existed, we were told! Little scary to just accept that on trust, as you may imagine. But after some discussion, because we had made a life for ourselves at Sunder, we decided to take him up on his offer.”

 “If Earth is up there,” Neal pointed, “and you _know_ it is, Phil – how high can you jump?”

  _Glad Mozzie isn’t here! He suffers fools less gladly than do I! Sounds like Adam feels the same way!_

 “It’s getting cold walking, let’s pick up the pace – the sleighs are out of sight!” Neal told them, and they cantered along. Susan, Eric, Adam, Mac, Freda, Abby and Andrew seemed, from their words, or expressions and nods of agreement, to be potential friends. Phil, Derek, Mike seemed much less friendly, even a little antagonistic, while Dwight and Melissa were as yet unknown quantities. Neal did what he had always done: read people as quickly as possible, assess assets and risks. _Probably isn’t necessary here and now. But not a bad habit._

The sleighs, and the riders after them, went round the lake and circled the entire Keep, coming to it from the front. It was such a magnificent sight, Neal and Mozzie had decided that the guests should appreciate the fantastic place as it was meant to be first seen on the approach from the road. Betchem looked especially imposing, that rich brown against the white snow, hung about with all the coloured ensigns of the Keeps, banners and ribbons, fluttering a little in the variable breeze. The Lords of the other three, as well as some Steel Keepers still to arrive, should be here within two candlemarks.

 The other riders were suitably impressed, and Neal smiled while running through all his plans and contingencies.

  _Everything will be fine! These are not idiots I’m dealing with._

Then they entered the building and went to their rooms to freshen up. Then Mozzie had them assemble and explained that, as at any royal celebration on Earth, there would be a tedious amount of protocol and etiquette just introducing the Lords and Ladies.  

        “Please just remain quiet and fix a look of respectful interest upon your faces, despite what you may be feeling! The Lords did play, and hopefully will play a part in making everyone’s Christmas, especially the slaves still here.

         “If a baby or young child starts fussing, just take them out – these people love their children, it will not bother them. Any questions?”

 There appeared to be no questions, everyone was looking forward to the feast, and the pageant before it would be very different from anything most of them would ever see. The Steel slaves ushered them to their designated seats and they went and sat around the huge room, the slaves and ex-slaves and their guests arranged behind the area their nobility would sit. Neal went with Joster and Merritt and supplied name tags and ribbons in the colours of their original Keeps and the flags of the country where they were now living, or had before the wars in the case of present Brethsham slaves.

 “I want everyone to talk, for slaves to find out what it is like ‘back home’ now, to connect. I planned that for all of you here.” Some of the slaves started to nod, understanding. Many of them thanked him with real appreciation, and his heart lifted.

 

_Lot of work, but so worth it! But I am going to enjoy going back to Steel, taking a long shower and sitting in the Greatroom with Mozzie, my Lord and June and probably Litha, drinking wine and tea and not saying very much, just loving each other silently._

He made a point of going over and hugging June.

 

After a time, when all the Earthlings were settled, Lord and Lady Betchem and a large number of their household walked in with great pomp and ceremony and settled in – well, thrones, to all intents and purposes! – on the dais. They were not wearing Court Dress, but just one step down from it! They were an impressive mass of green and gold! Mozzie introduced them all by name and rank and thanked them eloquently and profusely for their hospitality and generosity, on behalf of all the guests present.

 

Then the much smaller Steel Keep group came in, came to the steps of the dais and the men dipped their heads and the women half-curtsied in respect to the Lord Host and then filed round the room and sat before their silver-and-blue Christmas tree, the Lord first and then the slaves, all in silver and dark, bright blue and Mozzie went through the motions again: introductions, but without the thanks.

 

The next to enter were the Cambers, a much more rounded and extensive grouping in cream, black and gold, then the Sunders in brown and black on white with a truly unreasonable amount of glowing and glinting gold finery (Peter looked to make sure Neal was still on the stage) and finally the Laffays, who quite obviously revelled in the fact that they looked like butterflies against mud, their amethyst, violet and silver wildly brilliant, even though they were seated closest to Steel and not Camber and Sunder, which would have shown them up even more delightfully! Litha waved to Neal and he waved back.

 

For each Keep, Mozzie gave a detailed introduction and welcome.

 

The room positively reeked with power and influence, tinged with just a dash of smugness!

 

Neal was putting a great deal of energy into ‘feeling’ pleased and perhaps a little tired. _Not_ nervous or excited! Because he was the Earthling host, he stood decorously next to Lord and Lady Betchem wearing his arresting Chrysler-building-inspired suit, in Steel colours, of course. Unfortunately, as things had worked out, he was closest to the Lord. That worthy looked over at the slim conman, wondering if he was going to take over when there was another mass of movement by the entranceway. Neal kept his breathing slow and deep.

 

         Two slaves in apricot, bitter-chocolate brown and gold slowly strode in, followed by a man who seemed even senior to Lord Betchem, with a perfectly smooth olive skin and exceedingly long white, totally straight hair and similar beard, his wife on his arm. Many of his group wore the long straight hair, the very young ones had hair as black as pitch, as they entered adulthood, they developed salt-and-pepper hair, the older ones of the Goren type all had white hair and beards.

 

“How the…how did They get here? Who dared to let Them into Betchem?” Lord Betchem stood as though pulled up on strings.

Every Laffaysham head turned at his blast of fury, as did any others with any empathy whatsoever, though Mozzie had just started speaking loudly and clearly, introducing and welcoming to the Great Hall of Betchem Lord and Lady Goren of Goren Keep and their families and servants.

 Neal turned and stepped a little in front of Betchem. “Lord, I did. They are here by my request and invitation.”

 “How **_dare_** you?” hissed Lord Betchem, and Neal was aware that his Lord was suddenly behind him on the dais, and Peter, Jones and Diana, Joster and Merritt as well as Litha and Rebecca were on the stairs. He couldn’t see how unmatched he looked, as a slender boy standing before the mightiest Lord of Brethsham, huge in his robes and swelled appreciably further by wrath, but he could see how enraged the Lord was. He turned quickly and waved the others away. “Go, I need you not! This is not your ...debate.”

 They ignored him, feeling that this would be more intense and probably more perilous than any verbal altercation! Neal held up his index finger to Lord Betchem, asking for him to wait a moment, turned properly and said, more firmly, “I need you not! Return to your places! I insist!

         “Oh, Joster, please deliver these with all respect to the other Lords, and this extra one to Lord Sunder?” He handed him a pile of envelopes, then returned to stand before Lord Betchem whose evil temper had become even more exacerbated by the interruption, though that would have seemed impossible previously.

 Peter, Diana, Jones and Rebecca, backed off to stand at a little distance, but did not actually leave to go and sit down. Neal’s two men hurried away on their errands, wanting to return swiftly. Litha joined Lord Steel right behind him. He looked at his Lord and his beloved with exasperation. “Do you trust me not? This is my decision and none of yours, I take full responsibility for it, leave me to defend it. I am perfectly capable!”

 Lord Steel held up his hands showing that he accepted this and said, “I will interfere not at all, my son. But I wish to see this from a good vantage point! Deny me you can not.”

 “And I will be silent, Neal,” Litha said, “within reason. I just want to be close to you.”

 

They both moved sideways and stood together. Neal knew when to give up on a lost cause, especially when time was limited. He turned back to Betchem. “My Lord Betchem,” he said, quietly, hurriedly, “make not a scene. It is not of great political import, their attendance at a party organised by a mere Earthling.”

 “You interfere in things you do not understand! How dare you bring this upon Betchem! You conniving boy, I shall tear you limb from limb!”

 “Why would you? We are very fond one of another, Lord Betchem, and it would make a great mess and your actions would be the talk of the Five Keeps – sorry, the Five Alliance Keeps _and_ Goren and Trent – for many winters! No, I think not that, on further consideration, you will break my body, Lord, and certainly not my resolution.”

 “You are greatly at fault, Neal, son of Steel. You risk my friendship with your Keep.”

 “Oh, _no,_ Lord Betchem, with respect I am not only Neal of Steel, and I did not come here and ask for your great beneficence and largesse, allowing me to organise this party here, as the heir to Steel Keep, though I hold that rank very dear. I came as a simple artist, peddling my wares in exchange; I came as an Earthling with no status worth bringing to the discussion, to bring joy to other Earthlings. It is to this Earthling man you gave the pleasure, and I quote your words, Lord Betchem, with great deference and thanks, of inviting ‘anyone’ I wished.”

 “I expected all the Earthling slaves and ex-slaves, as you well knew…” the Lord puffed, working up another head of steam.

 “I mentioned the Alliance Lords, Ladies and their retinues.”

 “These two Keeps left the Alliance a great many generations ago, and - ”

 “And why, Lord?”

 “It is of no concern to you!”

 “As a humble Earthling artist, no. As one who loves the Alliance Keeps, it must be.”

Lady Brethsham put a hand on her husband’s arm, as he seemed ready to leap at Neal. Neal, apparently unaware, unafraid or uncaring, stepped right up close to Betchem, trying to speak quietly and hurriedly so only he and his wife would hear. “We heard that Goren and Trent had drifted from the Alliance, but were never told a reason. No-one we asked could enlighten us. My brother saw them at the House, had soft words with them, of course, and had the opportunity to study records held only there. But, other than the dates, and previous trade and agreements and combined military actions, it gave almost no details. So I went to see them.”

 “Oh,” growled Betchem, malevolent rage vibrating in his chest, “I am sure they told you wild stories against us!”

 Goren would say nothing.” Neal smiled. “It was, in fact, _you_ who gave me the clues, Lord Betchem, though nothing explicit and I am sure without any such intention.”

  _“What?”_

 “I see Lord Goren. He is mighty in years, as are you. No other Lord comes close to the two of you in years of vital life. Lord Trent had some old tale of a challenge between his great-great-grandfather and the Lord Sunder of that time. But he seemed puzzled at the falling away of the two Keeps. But Lord Goren by his very silence told me he knew.

         “And I visited every Keep of the Five, Lord Betchem. And in every gallery, somewhere, in all of them, are paintings or sculptures that include Goren from before the rift.

         “Crowded, blood-soaked battle scenes from the dire Keep Wars, heroes and martyrs, important marriages and funerals. Yet in Betchem Keep, not one image of a Gorenman exists. To times far lost in the mists of the ages, they are destroyed, painted over, cut away, sometimes sadly to the detriment of the work.

         “Since the time the records show that Goren and Trent left the Alliance, there are no new depictions in any of the Five Keeps. But only in yours was all the earlier art showing Goren defaced, though a few showing Trent Keepers remain. Therefore, the argument is betwixt Betchem and Goren. Likewise, Betchem, of all the Keeps, never, but _never_ does any trade with Goren – even to what I must believe is your notable disadvantage. So wagoners have told me.

         “It is not my place to speculate, though I hold in my deepest heart thoughts and possibilities, and that is where they will stay. I see great sorrow, great anger.

         “But also, Lord and Lady Betchem, a very great stretch of time has passed. There were reasons the Alliance Seven worked for all of the Keeps. You all need the fantastic range of supreme-quality paper and linen products of Trent. You need the stonemason skills, the concrete secrets, the mysteries of Goren’s apothecaries. You need the high-quality coal: Sunder shares hers, but begrudgingly, for huge supplies she has not and will need more than she has through the future seasons.

         “Betchem makes paper, but it is none of Trent’s quality.

         “Trent, like Steel, has many smaller skills, also copied but not duplicated at the Five: thatchers and basketmen, they have master apiarists and chandlers and coopers. Both Goren and especially Trent grow fruits that will not take the cold of your Keeps, I am assured they are delicious, both fruits and nuts. And they make liquor of very high quality and age.

         “The Five have had to learn to do without or do their best, but how much easier to accept this trade? Poor Laffay artists hardly learn the art of water-colours since they ran out of adequate paper products, and their manufacture of some paints and dyes is still inferior to Goren: any artist with means buys from merchants who visit Goren or their retailers, though I pray you share that not!

         “Likewise Goren and Trent would benefit from your hardwoods, specifically, and the special skills and resources of all the other Five Keeps. Is the resentment so deep between you, still? Is the offence still so sharp and bright in your memory? For Goren comes as a guest to attend an Earthling Christmas, to support his Earthling slaves. That is all. It is a humble posture he, a man one may speculate is as great as you, Lord Betchem, has seen fit to adopt.

         “I came here for the joy and delight of the Earthlings, but Christmas for us, I was reminded, is a time of forgiveness, of moving forward, not looking back. I came to give you, _you_ , my friend, Lord Betchem, a choice.”

 Neal stood up a little straighter and smiled kindly at the Lord. “You will not make a fool of yourself, Lord Betchem. You are far too canny a man for that! You can, however, take one of two roads. You may welcome Trent and Goren, with modulated hospitality, and when they go from here, allow the present situation between you to remain unchanged. Or you may extend to them the hospitality you extended to me and the people of Earth and see if there is a way you may draw closer, for the other Lord Keepers of the Five Alliance Keeps will follow your lead, here, great Lord.”

 Betchem studied Neal’s eyes, and Neal cheerfully let down his shields and smiled more broadly at him. Betchem’s eyes slitted a little and he said, “You say you give me choices, but my choice to exclude Goren – if you are truly correct that it is _my_ decision, presumptuous, brazen, alien ex-slave! – has been taken from me.”

 “Exactly! By a foolish, uneducated, uncouth off-worlder with no idea what he was doing,” Neal smiled. “We can put that about, Lord. Or you can appear the larger man and welcome Goren to your quite spectacular Keep, to our Celebration of forgiveness, and appear all the more magnanimous for it.”

 “Betchem looks a fool – we have not the colours of Goren or Trent to hang - ”

 Neal knew he had won the battle, if not the war, this was a relatively minor matter. “Give it not a thought, Lord, know I would respect the honour of Betchem better than that: Goren and Trent colours fly proudly from your battlements at this moment with all the other banners and ribbons!”

 

Neal glanced back, knowing that his time was growing short. The Goren retinue had circled the empty floor of the Hall with all due pomp while Mozzie announced them and was now approaching the dais. Neal looked back at Lord Betchem, smiled a little ruefully and shrugged one shoulder, and stepped over to stand by his Lord.

 One eye on the approaching group of representatives from Goren, Lord Betchem hissed at Lord Steel, “Knew you of this, Steel?”

 “Nothing, Lord Betchem. As he said, his idea, his responsibility. However, Steel Keep and all her people stand with him.” Steel’s voice was as mild as a gentle summer’s day.

 “No, my Lord, spoil it not!” Neal groaned. “I worked prodigiously to keep you and Steel out of it and you undo my work in a sentence!”

 “You have leave to do what you wish to do, son. I assume the same rights and duties.” Steel told him with a shrug.

 “Have you any influence over it?” queried Lord Betchem, with suddenly humorous disgust.

 “Neal, kneel here, please,” Lord Steel said, and Neal – ever graceful - knelt by his side, folded himself like a sleeping flower and dropped his head submissively. Litha promptly copied him and took his hand. Immediately many of the Laffays conceived the desire to paint such a scene, some desired to sculpt it in alabaster. At least two Sunder gold-and-silver-smiths thought of new lines of romantic jewellery. Meanwhile, unaware, Steel said, blandly, “I appear to have, Lord Betchem.”

 

The Goren slaves walking in front of their liege parted and Lord and Lady Goren took a last step to the bottom of the stairs. They were as serene and lovely as a pair of elegant carved bone statues from China that Neal had once possessed for a time before passing them on to a new, discerning and grateful owner, leaving that woman richer in beauty and poorer in terms of ready cash.

.............Again the room, this time very full, held its breath until Lord Betchem, bowing to the inevitable, took his wife’s hand and stepped forward and down the stairs and took the hand of Lord Goren. Betchem liverymen followed a step behind on either side.

 “I am so delighted that you could attend, Lord Goren.”

“I think we are all old enough to call each other by our given names, Theldylyn,” Lord Goren smiled a small smile. “My wife, Nerif.”

 “I am honoured that your beauty, Nerif, is adorning my Keep,” Lord Betchem said to her, then went on, “Nerif, Braghlon, allow me to introduce you to my wife, Cara.”

 The four took each other’s hands. There was no shaking of hands on Brethsham, but clasping, embracing of hands was common when people had not met for a time. The Lord Keepers spoke quietly for a few moments, then they parted and the Gorens moved away to their places and the very much younger Lord and Lady Trent’s group moved forward. Lord and Lady Betchem backed up the stairs to wait. Lord Betchem took another step backwards and asked Neal out of the corner of his mouth, “How did you reconcile Sunder and Trent?”

 Neal glanced at his Lord for permission to speak, to Betchem’s obvious if reluctant amusement considering the happenings of the morning, and answered, “It was not as serious a breach, Lord Betchem. I obtained Lord Trent’s assurances, it happened so long ago he had no dispute with reconciliation, and – er – Lord Sunder obviously has not created a fuss, so he has accepted my – um – exchange, the deal I offered him.”

 “I will hear of this deal, Neal.”

 “I will tell you in private, Lord Betchem.”

 

By this time the Trents were reaching the base of the stairs, so the Lord and Lady Betchem went down and introduced themselves and then the ruling Trents, young, and happy to be at such a large gathering, and looking at all the decorations, went to their allotted seats, and Lord and Lady Betchem withdrew to their thrones and their slaves with them. As he passed, Lord Betchem said, with some irascibility, “Oh, tell him to get up, Caerrovon! Behold me overwhelmed with admiration that you control such a sly, wicked, blackmailing creature – or even dare allow it in your Keep!”

 Neal, his head down, grinned, and Steel kicked him inconspicuously with a slight sideways movement of his foot.

 

Lord Steel, Neal and Litha remained set in their tableau until the whole Betchem group left the dais, and all the other Lords and Ladies gathered in the centre of the room and wine was brought for everyone.

 “I think it is safe, now, my son,” Lord Steel told him, and Neal rose, helping Litha. “You chose to tell me not about this little…trick you wished to play on Lord Betchem? Know you how powerful a man he is, in how invidious a position you placed yourself and, perhaps, Steel Keep?”

 “Plausible deniability, Caerrovon,” Mozzie said, coming up the stairs, along with Joster and Merritt, the FBI team and Rebecca. Neal glanced at them and grinned. _Strange times lead to strange bedfellows! Or is it a common enemy?_

Steel was puzzled.

 “Lord Betchem cannot blame you for our wrong-doing, Lord.”

 “Of course he can, you are my sons, Neal!”

 “And foolish off-worlders with little understanding of the machinations of the Keeps,” Neal reminded him.

 “Oh, _certainly!_ Of course you understand _nothing!_ And you are both still under my rulership… _hah!_ The Lord could justly lay the blame at the gates of my Keep.”

 “He accepted the situation, my Lord,” Neal said. “I apologise if you thought it too great a risk, but I felt he would have to choose that course or look foolish. People in positions of power would rather make deals with the devil than look foolish in front of their peers, their vassals and guests alike - and the greater their power, the less they like it.”

 “You blackmailed the poor man, Neal!”

 “He mentioned the devil! I hadn’t identified that alias, but I am not really surprised!” Peter said, grinning at Neal, who made a face back and said,

         “I gave him several options, one of which caused him to look even more powerful than before. And, I had to believe, an option he _wished_ to be forced to take.”

 Diana said, “What did you do to make Lord Betchem so furious, Neal?”

 “Played him, didn’t you?” Peter asked, not able to hide another grin.

 “For his own good, Peter, and the benefit of many thousands of people. And please, would all of you say nothing about this to others - not what you heard or what you may have surmised? Lord Betchem was...uncharacteristically passionate and vocal for the Lord of a Keep, I wish not to cause his name to be sullied.”

 "I did warn you about him, Lord Steel,” Peter told him.

 “You did,” Steel said, feelingly, “but I admit, never in my wildest imaginings did I ever consider he would bring the Ousted Keeps to Betchem under the guise of an Earthling party!”

 “No, no, it is an Earthling party _first_ , my Lord,” Neal explained, earnestly. “Bringing in Goren and Trent was an afterthought, merely.”

 “Lord Betchem is a powerful warrior in his own self, Neal,” Steel tried to explain to him. “He could easily have slain you and no-one would have had time to have lifted a hand.”

 “Well, you and Litha and this unarmed bunch might have, after the fact, though I hope not,” Neal waved a hand. “But he would hurt me not with any severity, Lord. He likes me!” He noticed that Peter, Jones, Diana and Mozzie were grinning and shaking their heads at each other. “What?”

 Steel tried again. “They probably consider that Lord Betchem looked not as though he liked you this morning, Neal. Your actions could have led to bloodshed, not just your own but that of your friends and Keep-mates, Neal.”

 “No, my Lord. Lord Betchem loves you as his son. All he can blame you for in this is poor judgement in your choice of heirs!”

 “Oh, that makes me feel so much better!” groaned Steel.

 “I warned you!” Peter repeated, grinning.

“So what was the cause of the divide between Goren and Betchem,” Tammy asked, joining them.

 _Of course – Tassin!_ thought Neal. “Locked in human hearts, Tammy, I know nothing for sure and would not tell if I did.”

 “Feuds have been fought for generation over incredibly minor offences, on Earth,” Jones said. “Lord Steel – is Neal safe? Can we go and eat, now?”

 Everyone left on the dais laughed. Steel waited till everyone but Neal, Mozzie and Litha had moved away and said to Neal, “You owe Betchem an apology the likes of which I can only vaguely imagine, and you may count yourself lucky if he is not harbouring festering indignation at being …coerced, to put it no higher, into going against what must have been a soul-deep resolve.”

 “You think he may still harm my Neal?” Litha demanded, her hand going to a missing sword-hilt.

 “If I were he,” Steel told her, “I would be relishing the thought! And as Neal insisted, this was his decision and his responsibility, leave him to his fate! I conclude it unlikely he will damage Neal beyond repair.”

 “You dismiss too lightly Lord Betchem’s affection for me, my Lord,” Neal grinned at him.

 “And you, my son, may perchance be valuing it too highly! I hope for your sake I am wrong.”

 “I think he will be delighted to lay down a resentment that has, however slightly, hurt his Keep, my Lord. It was possibly entered into in a season of hurt and anger, and he could not find a noble-seeming path of retreat from his position, however much he regretted it in hindsight.

         “And I have promised him several portraits as large as the one of your mother and his first wife, and if he injures me, he knows that the completion of those will be delayed and he has a fierce, hot temper, so if he waits till they are completed, his resolve to punish me will have dissipated.” Neal spoke with absolute confidence. Mozzie had voiced concerns, but Neal was always better at reading people.

 “He is so big and powerful, Neal,” Litha said, softly.

 Neal nodded. “That is why he would never hurt me. It would be too easy for him to injure me severely, and anyway, it would make him look like a bully.”

 “We shall see, Neal,” Steel said, a little sternly. “In future, you will tell me when you hatch a mad plan with such planet-wide repercussions. I insist.”

 Neal thought a moment. “Imagine another change of such breadth I might wish to make here on Brethsham I can not, Lord.”

 “Good! Make sure you remind yourself of those words, Neal, daily – and Mozzie, you are also on your honour to tell me anything Neal is choosing to do.”

 Mozzie looked concerned and said first in English. “I cannot rat on my brother!” then changed to Sheel, “I mean – tell you things to get him into trouble I can not.”

 “You also think he is in no danger?”

 “This plan is not something I would have ever undertaken, Caerrovon. _I_ would never extend my head so far into the mouth of a wild animal. That is not at all the methods I use. But sometimes a man has to take risks to create great change. Judge men as well as Neal I can not. I have to rely on his evaluation.”

 Steel gave up. “Just try to avoid telling Lord Betchem that he is a wild animal, would you?” He strode off. Perhaps it was time to find a wife and have a brood of children!

 

 

“So, that went off very well, think you not?” Neal said, happily, to his friends.

 “I thought Betchem would rend you and tear you, my Neal,” Litha said. “I would have to attack him, and he is very big and strong.”

 “Never, never take on someone against whom win you can not,” Neal admonished her. Mozzie and Litha looked at each other and laughed. “What?”

 “As you just did, my stupid friend?”

 “But I did win!” Neal told him, further puzzled. “And did you and Sally manage to move the paintings?”

 “Yes. We exchanged your version of grand-mother in the gallery for Sonsharelitha’s and added that rather nice grouping of the present Lady Betchem and all her children, wrapped, left it in the corridor outside the Lord’s suite.”

 “Good! A perfect time when his attention was engaged elsewhere,” Neal nodded. “All the pieces fell neatly into place, just as planned.”

 “Let us hope that all your pieces remain in place! Seriously, Neal, he looked apoplectic!”

 “I am sorry he became so angry,” Neal said, sadly.

 “The latter is a difficult and complex group portrait, Neal.” Mozzie was doing his best to cheer up his friend about Lord Betchem's response. “He will love it.

 “I know. Hate them. I am fast becoming of Sonsharelitha’s mind as to portraits.”

 Mozzie grinned a little. “Steel yourself, oh, son of Steel! I feel you will be doing a few more for Betchem before he stops glaring in your direction.”

 “You are both sure Neal is safe from reprisals.” Litha was worried.

 Mozzie looked at his bright young friend and smiled. “He has a knack of avoiding trouble, or talking his way out of it.”

 “Even if he remains furious after eating this lovely meal – known to contain chemicals that calm and soothe, almost sedate! – I have done what I can to facilitate Goren and Trent’s re-acceptance.

         “And there is no point in worrying, my Litha. There is nothing we can do to change what has been done. It is in Lord Betchem’s hands, love.”

 “We could go to Earth,” she suggested, softly.

 Neal looked at her with horror. “I would never do that! Above all things, that is the one that would enrage him most greatly. And apart from that perfectly good reason, I am no coward, Litha.”

 Litha dropped her butterfly lashes and considered that her husband-to-be was certainly not a coward: foolhardy and reckless and without sensible survival instincts, perhaps!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 4

 

Thank you, all of you who comment. We writers do this for fun (and would for money, should you wish to send us gold coins, diamonds,whatever! ;-)), but many of us sit in basements writing and posting, wondering if others will hate it, especially controversial, AU, odd pieces. I am aware that most of you who are reading this have already decided you like Brethsham and Steel, but please take the time to comment on any piece you like, by any writer, and give some constructive criticism or just your thoughts if you possibly can?

 

I am still adding to the Glossary chapter of OOB, should I copy it as a last chapter to this fic?


	5. The Big Day (part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will things go as expected and allow Neal to become engaged to Litha, or will Lord Betchem take swift revenge?

 

 

Everyone was now standing and talking. Some of the ex-slaves went up to their old Lords and spoke to them and thanked them for giving them homes when they were taken and sold at the Slave Market. The Lords and their families spoke amongst themselves, especially with Lords Goren and Trent and their retinues, of course! Meanwhile, the Betchem slaves set up the last bits and pieces in the main and glorious diningroom for the nobility and soon they were told it was ready, and they went through.

 

Then, since there was more room, tables were set up within the Great Hall, the chairs rearranged around them. The slaves, in a mood of great expectation and joy, helped, and Andrew and Dwight, who seemed to communicate through music and not words, played a variety of happy music, including carols.

 

Neal found himself hefting a table with Adam, who asked, “What was that all about?” He gestured with a head-movement towards the stage.

 

Neal shrugged a little. “Bit of a misunderstanding with Lord Betchem. Fine now.”

 

Adam’s bright eyes glinted at him. Neal felt a little uncomfortable under their piercing gaze. “What?” he demanded.

 

“Oh, when one has been around a while…and around interesting people, sometimes one might feel that there is more to the story?”

 

“Nothing interesting about it.”

 

“’The man who couldn’t be killed’. That’s what some of the slaves call you.”

 

“Let us hope they are correct,” Neal murmured, and Adam’s slightly twisted grin acknowledged the fact as he said, “So you _hope_ , ‘Fine now’ with Betchem.”

 

“He’s been a very good friend. I didn’t mean to make him cross. Can you – hey! Phil, could you move? Thanks!”

 

“Wasn’t that a risk, Neal, taking him on like that?”

 

Neal knew that Adam couldn’t know any details, he was just fishing. “Told you: misunderstanding.” They both moved several more tables without speaking, and then Mac called Adam over to speak to someone, and Neal gratefully watched him go. He had the strong impression that the man would be a very good friend, a very, _very_ bad enemy.

 

Soon the tables were all laid out, the chairs were in place and all the party guests sat down and slaves came round with fruit juices – Earth fruit juices as well as local ones, for the present slaves and the Earthlings who had never visited to try, and the ex-slaves to enjoy. Then huge covered platters of roasted Earth vegetables: potatoes, carrots, parsnips, onions were brought, large tureens of mashed potatoes and mashed pumpkins, some with marshmallows; green beans, Brussels’ sprouts with bacon and chestnuts; every possible delicacy Neal had found that these people might enjoy for Christmas!

 

Then the turkeys appeared: golden brown, set around with stuffing or dressing, huge and wafting delicious smells over the room, bringing forth appreciative murmurs, sounds, and then clapping from the slaves, especially those who had not eaten any sort of poultry since they had been abducted, so very long ago! Their delight showed on their faces and made everyone feel happy.

 

Neal was sitting with Litha, Joster and Merritt, Peter and El, Susan and Eric, Mac and Adam, and ten other slaves further down the table. He could have wished the eagle-eyed Adam had ended up at another table, but the man seemed engrossed in the food, passing round dishes, taking Susan’s plate and giving her breast meat as Mac carved the turkey for this half-table, and adding stuffing. Gravy appeared in bowls with dipping spoons, as gravy boats had not been invented on Brethsham. When the table realised, there were some who teased Neal for forgetting something so very, _very_ vital!

 

“You couldn’t remember to pack the gravy boats?” El chuckled, and there were light-hearted jeers from the table.

 

“And you always land in the gravy, so…?” Peter added.

 

“If he’s _in_ the gravy, he wouldn’t even notice the boat, would he?” Susan asked, loyally, and Neal nodded at her and said, “Thank you, Susan! Huh! After all I’ve done for all of you…!”

 

“This,” Mac said, his voice muffled by food, “is delicious!”

 

Everyone agreed.

 

“I never get turkey even now I’m on Earth, they don’t grow them small enough for one!” Adam pointed out. “I sometimes end up with bangers and mash on Christmas.”

 

“You’ve had Christmas dinner with me sometimes!” Mac pointed out, and Neal thought they sounded like him and Mozzie, good-natured arguing over silly things. Adam nodded, but couldn’t be bothered to stop eating to reply.

 

“I hope none of you ate well over the last day or so: there’s Christmas pud to follow!” Neal reminded them, and Susan beamed, as did the Aussie and the two other Brits.

 

Some of the others asked what exactly Christmas pud was, and there was a babble of noise.

 

“If we don’t take seconds, where will the left-overs end up?” demanded Eric, and Neal shook his head. He had no idea. “Well,” Eric continued, “I’ll just pop out and check with the kitchen staff!”

 

He came back and said, triumphantly, that all leftovers would be packaged up for slaves to take with them – anyone who still lived on Brethsham, or anyone who didn’t get much good food on Earth. Any of the kitchen staff would show them where they were stored, in the ice-shed.

 

“That’s why many of us stayed, or debated about staying,” Mac leaned back and said to Phil, who was seated behind him at the next table over. “There are good, kind people here.”

 

“No shackles or whippings, seriously?” Phil asked, disbelieving. “Nothing like slavery on Earth?”

 

“Not here, on Brethsham. We’re here, drinking very nice wine,” Mac went on, and El raised her glass to Neal, “not a leg-iron in sight and the only people watching us are slaves who work in the kitchen and are waiting to refill the glasses or plates, as requested. Does this look like the worst parts of ‘Roots’ to you?”

 

“Well, to be fair, this isn’t a normal lunch or dinner for us!” Eric grinned. “Come on, mate, I see you were at Sunder…”

 

Adam laughed, pouring more of the Frey Chardonnay for those who handed him their glasses, and waved the empty bottle at a slave, who ran over with another bottle, carefully wrapped. “Yeah, this is _not_ normal fare at Sunder. They – thank you! – are more meat-and-potato-and-ale types!”

 

“And not potatoes, always!” Neal chuckled.

 

“A definite deciding factor when we left for Earth…I missed good food and drink!” Mac laughed. He had a lovely laugh. Susan glanced over, admiringly.

 

“They work really hard, too!” Neal added. “I have come to love good swords, but I am very glad I don’t have to make them myself!”

 

“It’s nice, though, because it’s a small Keep,” Adam told him. “We knew everyone after a short time. They could try and place us in good positions for our abilities. And Tallk bought me at the market because they already had Mac and he pointed me out as a friend.”

 

“Waaal…” Mac hedged, and Adam punched his shoulder and they laughed together. “Yes,” he admitted, “it made it a lot easier to get settled.”

 

“At Camber, they try and Keep the different…ethnicities, races, species, whatever we are! – apart,” Susan told them. “They are certainly kind enough, but…hard to feel at home.”

 

At that point the slaves started clearing the main meal and left everyone with wine, water and tea for a while. Neal sat back. El tapped his wrist. “You are looking a little tired, Neal. This must have been an incredible undertaking.”

 

Neal smiled at her. “Yeah. It seemed like a good idea…but it did snowball!”

 

Adam leaned forward and said, “We should all stay an extra day and wait on all the slaves here who waited on us, and help take down the trees and clear up and pack up generally.”

 

“Yes!” Susan agreed, and several other people nodded.

 

“That would be wonderful!” Neal told them. He had been looking forward to the ‘tear-down’ with dread…all the work with none of the hopeful expectation!

 

“I’ll start a list, hand it round,” Adam said, and took out a small notebook with a ballpoint pen stuck in the binding.

 

Mac saw Neal’s face and made one of his own. “Always has a pen and paper on hand…he’s like a teacher!”

 

“Oh, be quiet!” Adam told him. “See how useful this is being? How exactly are you helping?”

 

Mac grinned down at him as he wrote neat headings and drew columns before passing it to El.

 

“Hand those round with it, would you?” Neal requested, handing them seven cards nested together. “Just thanking the Lords for allowing this and supporting it?”

 

“Neal, believe you that Lord Betchem will be happy to see that?” Merritt asked.

 

“Probably tear it to little pieces, burn it and eat the ash, if his expression earlier was anything to go by,” Adam remarked, and Neal threw a green pea that had fallen off someone’s plate at him. “Hey! No turning escapees into fly-away peas!”

 

“But good aim!” Mac noted, since it had bounced off Adam’s forehead.

 

Neal was waiting for the Christmas pudding for several reasons: he couldn’t leave, he had children’s charms to distribute, magically. Yet suddenly he just felt that awful ‘drop’ that he often felt after a heist, successful or not – but especially not. It felt as though he hadn’t slept in two weeks and that his blood sugar was at an all-time low.

 

_I want to go home. And I can’t, there’s too much still to be done. And if Betchem doesn’t care, and the other Four Keeps didn’t care, why the hell did I? Just because of the lack of water-colour paper? Let the Laffays go up against Betchem. Gosh, I must feel tired! The Trents looked happy as sandmen, however, to be here! Glad someone is appreciating my sacrifice…the extent of which has yet to be determined…_

 

Litha reached under the table, tapped his thigh and he gave her his hand. She started to massage the palm, not even looking at him, and he realised: he couldn’t _feel_ that loudly around her! She turned and smiled at him and, a little hesitantly, he smiled back.

 

The sky was darkening a little, and the slaves went round drawing the curtains and the kitchen staff brought in the Christmas puddings, alight with blue flames as Neal had been instructed to do by the various experts he had consulted! The people originally from the UK and the Commonwealth cheered and the others joined in. Bowls of whipped cream were added to the feast.

 

“You got it all right, Neal!” Susan exclaimed, delighted, and as the blue flames died down and the puddings were placed on the tables, Neal clapped his hands and all the firebugs on all the Christmas trees glowed with multi-coloured little flames, small enough, the Laffay bioengineers – or whatever they were called, those men and women who worked closely with the symbiotic creatures – had assured him that the heat would not be a problem, even next to the resin-rich coniferous trees. Everyone seemed to gasp with delight, the trees looked lovely, all the baubles and tinsel glowing and glittering. The youngest kitchen slaves ran around with more of the same bugs to place on each table, so they could eat by, as Mozzie had rudely called it when they were planning, ‘bug-light, and not the beer!’.

 

 _It would be wonderful if on Earth we could eat by tame glow-worm light!_ Neal thought. _Some peoples do catch fireflies…lightening-bugs…need a lot of glow-worms…._

The room looked magical. Each wine-glass reflected what seemed to be a million tiny, shimmering lights. The slaves then doubled that, adding flutes to each place setting, and handing bottles of champagne to a man at each end.

 

“Lights for the children and champers for the adults,” Eric approved. “Very nice, too!”

 

Peter took the bottle from Joster, who had looked completely confused as to how it opened, and very soon the room was filled with the sound of popping corks and squeals of delight from some of the women and children.

 

“Pavlov’s dogs,” Mozzie said to Sally, with slight derision. Probably many here did not appreciate champagne, but its links to celebrations made them feel joy and hope. "And why did Neal bring flutes? I thought between Adler and myself we had taught him better! Flutes merely look pretty! A tall tulip is a much better choice - well, crystal or leaded glass with nucleation points keep the fizz better, and allow the bouquet to be appreciated. And they are far more stable and you don't bash your nose on the rim!"

"I'm sure he did his best, Mozzie. These are probably a lot cheaper!"

"And the experience the poorer for it!"

"Most people will not know the difference." Sally tried to be placating. She never touched the stuff, no matter the glass shape!

"More fools they!"

 

The steaming puddings were soon divided and cream added for those who wanted it, and Neal had to agree the fruit pudding was delicious…so rich that the sweetness was lessened, the spices and rum rounding it out.

 

“Everything in these, at one time or another, had a mystical meaning of prosperity and fertility,” Adam was telling Susan, who nodded, her mouth full and then said, “Not surprised. Oooh, I have missed this! Don’t watch, everyone, I am going to pig out!”

 

Joster tentatively tried the champagne and Neal watched, amused. His man saw him smiling and said, “Nice it tastes not, and the bubbles make me want to sneeze, Neal! It is truly a delicacy?”

 

“Leave it if like it you do not, Joster! It is an acquired taste!”

 

“Yes, Joster,” Mac said, “ _do_ leave it.”

 

“And hand your glass down here!” Eric called up the table.

 

“Though we often find you difficult to fathom, Neal, your planet-mates are also strange. Why do Earthlings work to learn to like drink that is unpleasant and expensive?”

 

“And not all that good for you, mate!” Eric went on. “Don’t go near the stuff, seriously!”

 

Neal shook his head at Joster. “Since it will always be hard to come by on Brethsham, it seems a mad thing to do to grow accustomed to it or develop a liking for it, Joster! I can take champagne and other sparkling wines or leave them, I prefer still wines.”

 

Joster looked at Neal, judging what he was saying. Neal confirmed, “Disappointed if you hate the turkey or the wine or the champagne I will not be, Joster and Merritt. I have wished for many years that Mozzie had acquired not a taste for wine! There will be tea, both local and Earth tea, and coffee – and ale, if you prefer – as well as water.”

 

Sure that he was telling them the truth, not just being polite, they happily passed their glasses down to Eric, who accepted them even more happily!

 

Then Susan squealed in delight! “I have a tickey! Oh, Neal! Thank you!”

 

“It is a vague representation of a tickey, Susan,” Neal told her. “But silver, I am assured, and the meaning is the same and the good wishes with it! Some of the charms are gold.”

 

“Neal, dear, by the time generations have bitten into them, ours were vague representations of tickeys, too!”

 

“What is a tickey?” asked Eric, and Adam explained about the coin, rather to Susan’s surprise.

 

“I thought someone had left some egg-shell in the pudding,” Elizabeth said, “but it’s a golden charm shaped like a money-bag!”

 

“That’s money, of course, lots!” Susan explained. “I don’t know what Neal has in here, but there’s sometimes horseshoes and four-leaf-clovers for luck, a dog for a new friend, a key for new beginnings, a heart for a new love…owl for wisdom, elephant for fond memories…um, a star to wish on, sometimes a jester’s cap…that’s open to interpretation!”

 

“Sorry, no animals, I never heard of those,” Neal shook his head.

 

“I have a thimble,” Mac said.

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Adam said, straight-faced.

 

“What does a thimble mean? I _am_ good at sewing, when necessary! What do you have?” Mac demanded.

 

“Thimble means you’ll be an old maid – but the prophesy is too late, you always were! And I think I probably swallowed anything that was in my portion,” Adam shrugged, then he found a tickey.

 

“I have found a gold thing – a ring?” Litha said quietly to Neal, licking it clean off fruit and mixture.

 

“It is correct: you are to be married within the next year!” Neal said, hugging her. “I go to ensure every child has found some treasure in their pudding! Eat another mouthful I can not – not comfortably!”

 

“I shall come with you!”

 

Mozzie joined them, and he and Neal started at opposite ends, ‘finding’ charms in puddings of children who had none. When they met in the middle, they smiled and went back to their seats and Peter stood up and cleared his throat, to Neal’s surprise.

 

“Firstly, I’d like to thank our Brethsham hosts Lord and Lady Brethsham and all the other nobility for allowing us to enjoy a celebration here! To the nobility!”

 

Mac stood, as did many others, but Mac boomed out, “Hip-hip - ”

 

And many people yelled back, “Hooray!” which of course was all repeated twice.

 

Then Peter said, “And to Neal and Sir Mozzie of Steel for doing all the hard work and planning, and Lord Steel for keeping them on such a loose leash that they can!”

 

Mac lead the three cheers, and then Peter went on, “And of course to the Chiri, without whom we would have all had to climb aboard space ships and spend months in space to attend! For everything you do, Lira, Kitran and all the other Chiri – three cheers!”

 

After the wooden hall rang with the cheers, Neal expected Peter to sit, but he went on, “And to absent friends.”

 

“To absent friends,” the Earthlings said, as one, solemnly. Everyone had lost friends, family, homes, countries! Mac started singing Auld Lang Syne, Andrew picked up the accompaniment and everyone joined in – but Mac was perhaps a little drunker than would be supposed to look at him, and perhaps a little more Scottish than even his name suggested, for he knew five verses, and sang them all with great sorrow, a lovely voice and only slightly slurred lyrics here and there, his Scottish accent becoming ever more prominent. Most people there, of course, knew just the first verse – sort of – and the chorus, but they joined in the chorus every time. On Earth, before the wars, it might not have been so, but they sympathised with the big man’s loss. Adam pulled him down and patted his shoulder.

 

Neal stood up and kissed Litha and whispered, “I go to change. Could you, also?”

 

Mozzie waved to let him know he’d been seen as he left, and that things would be prepared.

 

 

 

When Neal stood, hiding behind one of the thick curtains, waiting for his Lord to appear, the Greatroom had been reorganised again. The Lords and Ladies sat around an open area of floor; everyone else was waiting, most not knowing what was about to take place. Lord Steel found Neal where he had told him he’d be, and they smiled at each other. Brak hovered in the background.

 

“You are indeed sure, Neal?”

 

“Yes, I am sure, Lord. How did you judge the atmosphere in the Dining Hall?”

 

Steel grinned. “We all play politics, Neal, an outward show of awkwardness there was not! Indeed, there seemed to be a great deal of happiness! Lord and Lady Trent, his sister and their oldest child were a delight, Lord and Lady Goren are quiet, merely smiling gently, but they seem pleased to be here. I wish to know how you caused them to decide to attend?”

 

“I will tell you when we get home. It was very funny, my Lord!”

 

“Your ideas of humour and mine sometimes differ. I think you see much to laugh at about this morning’s proceedings?”

 

“I think in retrospect I will find them hilarious!”

 

“The Laffays have made urgent deals with Trent for paints and papers of sorts I know not.”

 

“That is a good thing. Now the artists can get on with creating art, having the tools and raw materials and be not forced to make them!”

 

They watched the people settling, and Steel put his arm on Neal’s shoulder. “You discovered all the problem started with Betchem and Goren because of artwork in the Keeps?”

 

Neal nodded. “I notice things, my Lord, and of course, art that has been damaged makes me feel very – it as if someone has hurt _me_ , my Lord, even if mine it is not – even if like it I do not!”

 

“You are very clever, my Neal. Cautious enough for my liking you are not, but extremely clever.”

 

“Was Betchem still furious?”

 

“He failed to exhibit the usual cheer and generosity as a host, but he was perfectly polite and smiling.”

 

“Still furious.”

 

“Perhaps. You thought it would be otherwise?”

 

“I knew he would initially react very badly, but I did think he would be able to see past his emotions and realise that the other Keeps are valuable, my Lord.”

 

“If you are correct, he has held this disagreement close to his heart without forgiveness for longer than any three of us of us, other than Lord Goren, have drawn breath! You hoped he would see things differently?

         “You are planning to go and apologise?”

 

“Perhaps I am over-optimistic about people, Lord, and yes, of course.”

 

“Be sure, Neal, that you treat him with all the respect and humility you show me.”

 

“I will, my Lord.”

 

“No matter what?”

 

“No matter what.”

 

Steel looked down at his son, who was concentrating on the gathering crowd, trying to see his Litha. He knew well that he shouldn’t feel this swell of love and pride when Neal had carried out such a reckless, nay _insane_ plan!

 

“It would be seemly if I accompanied you, Neal, as your Lord and father.”

 

Neal brought his focus back and smiled a little at Steel. “No, I think that would be very awkward, my Lord. You love me more than does Lord Betchem, and may wish, despite your reservations about my behaviour, to protect me from his anger.”

 

“You think he will forgive you?”

 

“Oh, yes, my Lord! …Eventually.”

 

Lord Steel shook his head, still trying to understand this complex creature. And if anything, this son was far more open and simple than his brother! He felt Neal react and there was Litha swathed in a white cloak with a hood, with her parents and her Lord and Lady. Neal stood up straight and glanced back to see if Lord Steel, now dressed in his full regalia, was ready.

 

“It is a pity you have not Earth parents to stand by you,” Steel whispered.

 

“He has a brother, a mother and a sister!” Mozzie said, coming up beside Neal, with June and Alex, all beautifully dressed. Mozzie was wearing a gorgeously cut greyish-blue suit. Mozzie glanced at Alex again, slightly disparaging. “Or a cousin or something!”

 

“You’ll stand with me, Alex?” Neal asked, giving her a hug.

 

“Someone has to make sure you actually make this girl your wife, Caffrey!” she whispered back, and, even more quietly, “and I may yet be your evil step-mother. Steel is yummy!”

 

Before Neal could tell her she had no chance in such an endeavour there was another voice: “And us,” Tammy and Diana said.

 

“Could we be some sort of uncle-and-aunt?” El asked.

 

Neal smiled happily at all of them, and asked, “Where’s Jones?”

 

“He’s not happy in front of crowds of aliens I don’t think,” Peter said. “Never has been one for public speaking when not essential. Sara said we looked like an invasion, and elected to stay with him and Emily.”

 

“All you have to do is stand behind Neal and myself, Lady June and Mozzie,” Lord Steel said. “And – Alex? – if she chooses.”

 

“Oh, we understand the idea, Lord Steel,” Peter chuckled. “Cut off his retreat! We have lots of practice!”

 

Litha was looking for Neal, so he put aside the need to bicker with Peter to a more convenient time, and shifted his shoulders to get the set of his quite gorgeous jacket in place and walked towards her. Her face lit up, and without taking her eyes off him, she shrugged off the floor-length hood, her mother making sure it didn’t muss her hair, though she looked as though she couldn’t care if the planet split apart, she just wanted her Neal. She stood revealed, slender and fragile-seeming, in a beautifully dyed floor-length dress, deep lilac round the waist fading to white at the hem and shoulders, a deeper-hued narrow sash criss-crossed between her breasts and round her waist.

 

Her hair was partially up, and had crystals of amethyst, lilac tourmaline and iolite glinting amidst the white-gold curls, and thin ribbons of white, violet, lilac and amethyst curled from her hair to trail and curl right down to the floor. The scoop-neck left her pale skin bare. She, followed by her parents and her Lord and Lady behind them, stepped into the middle of the empty area in the middle of the room, and she put her hands out and into Neal’s.

 

He was wearing his (and one of Byron’s) favourite navy Devore suit and a silver-white shirt and a silver silk tie striped diagonally in Steel blue and black.

 

“Now that looks like a inter-galactic marriage!” whispered Peter. “All it needs is the hat!”

 

“Who gives this woman to be wed?” asked Lord Betchem, off to the left somewhere.

 

“We of Laffaysham Keep do give her to Steel Keep,” Lord Laffay said, clearly.

 

“Who accepts this woman to be wed?”

 

“We of Steel Keep do gladly accept her from Laffaysham,” Lord Steel answered.

 

“Who is this woman who chooses to wed?”

 

“I, Aramalitha of Laffaysham, do choose to wed, Lord.”

 

“Which man chooses to wed this woman?” Betchem continued.

 

“I, Neal of Steel, do choose to wed her, Lord.”

 

“This union is witnessed and the contract is made valid by all those present,” Lord Betchem spoke the traditional words. “Aramalitha of Laffaysham is now Aramalitha of Steel by betrothal, and Neal of Steel becomes kinsman of Laffaysham by the same.”

 

There was a burst of clapping and cheering. Neal and Litha had not broken eye-contact the entire time, and now, rather to the astonishment of the crowd, he sank down on his knees – carefully, the suit was precious! – and said to her, “Litha, my heart will be slave to yours from this time, my love. Will you collar me? I have my Lord and father’s collar still, I will be his slave forever, but this is as binding.”

 

Her eyes filled with tears that glittered and fell: she had seen his submission to his father, the easy, respectful love that he was offering her in turn, and nodded. He handed her a slave collar that he had Tak and Embra make for him: delicate and detailed with multi-facetted platinum that he had white rhodium-plated, so that the chains were brilliant, and could be thin and yet durable. She knelt before him, their knees touching, shook the chains free and clasped them carefully around his neck.

 

She patted it flat and looked at him. “You did make one for me?” she asked, anxiously.

 

“I had one made, if you choose to wear it. I do not require it, my Litha.” They smiled at each other and she put out her hand and he brought out the matching chain for her, and she dropped her head so he could fasten it on her, carefully holding her long hair free of her neck. They sat silent on their heels a moment, and the room was quiet as they smiled and then knelt up and hugged each other, hiding their faces in each other’s necks.

 

It was a moment of profound beauty, and many of the women and some of the men found tears on their faces. Then Neal leaned away, grinned delightedly at his betrothed, and stood, coming round to take her elbow and steady her as she got up in the tumble of fine, fragile fabric of her skirt and curling, shiny ribbons.

 

“Thank you all!” Neal said, grinning round like a fool, and Litha smiled and put her arm round his waist. Then hundreds of people seemed to try and get as close to them as possible, patting and hugging them. Neal turned and hugged and kissed his father and June, then went and hugged Aramalessia and Lithalitherian and then Lord and Lady Laffay. Then Neal went to try and thank Lord Betchem, but he seemed to have excused himself from the celebration. Neal’s heart fell.

 

However furious Betchem was with him, though, he had his Litha! Soon the piano and violin were playing, people were dancing in pairs and rings, and Neal and Litha found themselves standing with June, Mozzie, Peter and El, Diana and Tammy and Lord Steel and Brak. Aramalessia and Lithalitherian came to join them.

 

“That sounded more like a marriage ceremony than a betrothal,” Peter commented. “Very beautiful: simple. Congratulations to both of you, Neal and Litha.”

 

“It did!” Diana said. “We got betrothed at home, at Steel Keep, and then married at the heirship ceremony for Neal and Mozzie. We wish you all the happiness we share, Neal and Litha!”

 

“Yes, dear, but you and Tammy did not represent two Keeps on Brethsham,” Steel smiled. “Merely two planets – and there were no rulers from Earth here!”

 

Lithatherion said, “This is the more important ceremony, Earthling. In olden times, or in the time of war, it is very difficult to get an assemblage of Lords together in one place and often there were many couples who wished to join. If these two could not get another quorum of Lords together, they could take their pairing to the level of a full marriage before just one of our Lords: Steel or Laffay. These two young people have given their words in front of witnesses. It is considered a settled thing.”

 

“You knew this, did you, Neal?” Tammy enquired.

 

“It is of no consequence,” Neal said, still absorbing Litha’s sweet face with his eyes and heart.

 

“You have a good chance at real happiness,” Aramalessia said. “As well as many of us to help should you run into difficulties.”

 

“I think you like your anklets and slave collars,” Peter teased.

 

Neal smiled a little. “It is not necessary for me to wear the collar for Steel Keep, the heir’s half-knot, this collar for Litha…and both hers and mine are removable. Should she ever wish to leave, I would not stop her. Therefore, if she stays, she stays for love. And I for her. My Lord taught me that.”

 

Steel hugged him. Lord and Lady Laffay joined them and the Lord asked, “So this is a typical Earthling folk-costume?” and touched Neal’s shoulder curiously, feeling the tailored stiffness of the jacket, looking closely at the silver tie and sapphire-adorned tie-pin that brought out the colour of his eyes. Neal smiled, ducked his head respectfully and answered, “It is a common type of clothing worn my many men on Earth, Lord Laffay.”

 

“But, Lord, this is a supreme example of this type of clothing,” El told them.

 

“It does not look practical…?” Aramalessia remarked, tentatively.

 

Neal laughed. “It is not practical for very athletic pursuits, Aramalessia, and much of it is traditional. It is like the court dress, here, and men wear it for professions that are more sedentary, though it is possible to ride a horse in it, of course…”

 

“Or run,” Peter added, quietly, “when necessary.” Neal glanced across at him with a quick grin, remembering successful escapes.

 

“What is the custom, now?” Elizabeth asked. “On Earth we sign registries and drink toasts.”

 

“I thought toast was burnt-blackened bread…?” puzzled Tammy, and the Earthlings chuckled. “The ear-bug knows not - ”

 

“It is a complex mongrel language to learn, Tammy-dear!” Diana said to her. “A toast can also be what Peter called for to thank the Lords and Neal and to absent friends – a sip of a drink and a moment’s reflection.”

 

“A betrothed couple and their immediate families and Lords will eat a meal and drink something together,” Mozzie told them. “It is set up in the Diningroom."

 

“But we just ate a huge meal not that long ago!” Neal said, a little horrified.

 

“It is a light snack, Neal,” Mozzie told him. “And champagne, fruit juice and water. It is to affirm your prosperity and togetherness.”

 

They stood back and let the Lords and Lady Laffay walk first, and there were quite a number of people in the room: firstly, and vastly to Neal’s relief, Lord and Lady Betchem, Ambreth and several of their other children, including Ethlan, were already in the room, seated. The large table had been moved sideways, and they sat at a different table, still a rectangle, but much less long and a little wider. The table split the Keeps: mostly Laffay down one side, mostly Steel down the other, with all their servants in livery behind their chairs. Litha and Neal sat at the end facing Lord and Lady Betchem.

 

The slaves brought in plates of fruits of all sorts, Earth fruits and fruits from warm-houses on Laffay, Steel and Betchem, as well as sweet wines, sherries and more champagne. There were also tiny little crisp cookies or biscuits in different shapes, painted gold, traditional for the occasion, to ensure the good fortune and health and happiness of the new couple.

 

Lord Betchem then took the champagne and said, “To the happiness and success of the union between Neal of Steel and Aramalitha of Laffay!” He was not comfortable with it, it was obviously not a Brethsham tradition, but everyone copied him, and Neal stood and said, “Thank you most earnestly, Lord Betchem, for allowing us to be betrothed here in your most beautiful Keep, and for your good wishes for our happiness.”

 

Lord Steel said, “I would like to formally welcome my new daughter, Aramalitha, to my family and my Keep. I am sure this new couple will prosper if my son’s wishes are fulfilled, for he loves her, and the reasons are evident! She is as beautiful and charming as she is dear and bright.”

 

The Lord Laffay spoke and said, “From what I know of Neal, son of Steel, he will be an asset, interesting and unusual, to Laffaysham. Already we have much for which to thank him and his brother: getting rid of the flowers and the murderers who were using them, and then removing the rest of those assassins.

         “They have given our Earthling slaves a celebration and have made some of them happy and some have asked if they may be released to return home, for which he is paying us handsomely, some go to find other Keeps. This is good.” Lord Steel’s eyebrows rose a little. “They have also done us, at Laffay, a great service: we have re-introduced trade with Trent and Goren, the most valuable part of that, for us, being that we now have paper of the very best quality for our art-work.”

 

“That was my reasoning, Lord Laffay!” Neal grinned. He had kept a conman’s eye on Betchem through these speeches. Betchem was keeping up the façade, but he hadn’t forgotten the bombshell Neal had dropped upon him, and his outrage had not noticeably lessened, though lids were drawn tight over it.

 

After these alien attempts at ‘toasts’, the conversation became general and Neal again wished he could just escape and go home, with Litha.

 

After a short while the little party broke up and Neal and Litha went to change.

 

“How is Betchem?” Neal asked her.

 

“Dark, Neal,” she replied apologetically, wishing she could give him a more positive answer. “He is very angry at being tricked.”

 

“Not with the outcome?”

 

“I think more with being tricked.”

 

“Well, there is absolutely nothing I can do to change that, so let _us_ change into normal, practical clothes and go skating, my dear. But soon we will be home and can relax.”

 

“Please hug me, Neal?” she asked, and he complied, and they stood together, touching from knees to shoulders, her softness moulding to his muscular lines, sharing breath and heartbeats.

 

“You looked so perfect, Love, dressed for me,” Neal told her.

 

“And I know how careful you were, to dress so smartly for me, showing me your past and your importance. You are sure you would rather not have Alex or Rebecca or Sara?” she asked, softly. “They are all so beautiful, intelligent – and Earthlings. And they cannot read your feelings and thoughts.”

 

“I love them all, you understand? Well, I am trying to love Rebecca, if she has changed, which you and Lira say she has. I did, once.

         “Alex has been such a good friend, and Sara, too. But – it is partly that they belong to my old life. I am not that man any longer. And yes, they are beautiful. I think most nice people are beautiful in their own way, Litha. Perhaps feature for feature, you have not the physical perfection of Sara, for example. Alex is lovely, quirky, perhaps more like you. But we were more often like naughty children together than lovers!

         “But when I look at you, my heart is light and I feel happy. Sara never did that for me. I never felt as comfortable and hopeful with any one of them as I do with you – as I did with you the moment I saw you. Alex never made me contented! It is as though my heart was waiting for you all these years, with-holding itself from complete union with any woman till you.”

 

“They are not disappointed?”

 

“I am very sure they are not, Litha! Promises of a future with any of them there were not. They moved away from me. There are memories, many good, some not as good. They have had other men, I have no doubt, and never fought to have me!”

 

“I would have fought to have you, if I was sure of your feelings, Neal.”

 

“Yes, darling, that I also doubt not! Luckily, other contestants there are not! Your blade may remain sheathed! You have me.”

 

“You would like me to fight others for you?”

 

“It is a delightful image! And very gratifying!”

 

“You are amused?”

 

“In our children’s tales, it is always the men who fight over a woman.”

 

“Would you fight someone for me?”

 

“If absolutely necessary. I would prefer to throw you over my horse’s pommel and steal you away, had I thought not to bring two mounts! - as I told you, and leave them frustrated, especially as my fighting skills are such that be sure of a win I could not – so I would use the skills I rely on and can trust most to take with certainty what I want!”

 

“One day, when things are calm, we can pretend that you are stealing me from my awful, tyrannical family – or better, that I am a slave and you rescue me from an evil Lord!”

 

“I am going to completely love having you as a wife!” Neal laughed aloud and then said, “Mozzie helped Lord Steel get Elizabeth back from another Lord for Peter, but evil he was not, and my Lord merely bought her! Very dull!

         “Diana and Jones were bought by a truly evil Lord, and she killed him and they escaped. Again, not exactly as in our children’s fairy-tales!”

 

Her eyes lit up. “I must further befriend Diana!”

 

“Yes, half-way through the telling, I realised that would be your response!” Neal smiled, ruefully.

“Here are your men and my woman, Neal. I shall see you on the ice!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 5 of The Gathering.

 

Comments, of course...!

This is a little short, but it seemed to be a natural pause. Hopefully have the next bit up soon, but please at least let me know of typos and mistakes - I seem to have been fixing bits in this more than usual!

 

 

 


	6. The Big Day (part three) (told you it was a BIG DAY)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal tries to apologise to Lord Betchem

 

 

 

Neal changed quickly and hurried down to the main level. Litha joined him, her face lit from her love and happiness. Betchem Lake looked like some fantastic Christmas card: many of the fire-bugs in their glass containers had been taken from the Christmas trees and placed on wooden planks around the lake, so they would be warm, and many were being carried by the skaters, so that there were flickering lights gliding round the ice.

 Neal had taken a little time to practise skating and was more comfortable than he had been, but his mind was elsewhere amidst the many greetings and congratulations, and when he saw Lord Betchem, Towan and two other liveried slaves leave to return to the Keep, he made the rounds and thanked all those who helped, told them he’d see them tomorrow _(perhaps an affirmation, perhaps a truth)_ and followed them.

 

Leaving the skating party had taken longer than he had hoped it would: everyone they met wanted to hug them and wish him and Litha well.

 

 

Neal was not particularly worried about confronting Lord Betchem. The Lord had always been kind and understanding. Perhaps the man had not given much thought to the benefits of having the Seven back together? Neal and Mozzie had: the trade figures between the Keeps were lodged at the House and very obviously all of them had done better financially before the two were ostracised, even taking into account the Keep Wars which solidified their union to fend off threats to their combined sovereignty.

 

Though the Gorens had seemed undemonstrative, quiet, it was obvious that they, and far more so Lord and Lady Trent, were optimistic about a closer relationship with their former allies. The accounts indicated that it would be extremely beneficial now as it had in the past. Betchem must know this, have known this his entire life! So, as Neal and Mozzie had supposed, the rift was personal.

        

It was a little comforting to think that these Lords and Ladies were not so dedicated to financial well-being, military power and the politics that were enmeshed in both that they would not cut off all ties for some personal or emotional reason. The only other possibility was actual treason or betrayal, and since this was still the same Lord Goren, the same Lord Betchem, Lira would have picked that up. Mozzie had insisted she prove them that far: he would not bring a dangerous criminal to the celebration, despite Neal’s (in Mozzie’s estimation) youthful hopes and wishes! Mozzie was cynical for very (in Mozzie’s estimation) good, solid and long-tried reasons!

 

Neal arrived at the Lord’s study, where Towan stood without, just as Ethlan erupted rather suddenly from the door and closed it behind him with more vim than he normally displayed. He saw Neal and scowled, but apparently for him, not at him.

         “I am sorry, Neal, I did what I could for you!” he said, and strode off angrily.

 

Neal stood, looking after him. _That doesn’t sound good **at all!**_

Neal nodded at Towan, who knocked at the door and put his head in and said, “Neal, son of Steel, is here, Lord: will you speak with him?”

 

There was a gruff noise from within and Towan gave Neal a strange look and a nod, and Neal entered.

 

It took a moment for Neal to locate Lord Betchem in the dimly lit room. He had changed out of his glad-rags and was dressed all in brown, lounging in a brown, very large, over-stuffed chair that Neal didn’t recall as being part of the furnishings of the study.

 

It took Neal far less time to note the coiled plaited Slaver’s whip on the otherwise empty desk and the smell of alcohol. Not, in anyone’s appraisal, a good combination in a man of powerful physique and complete sovereignty within his Keep…though he might argue that Neal had challenged that dominion. Neal tried to assess his peril. He had seldom felt so out of his depth.

 

 _Wow, did I miss-read this situation. Perhaps I **should** have run to Earth! Just stepped off a deep step I didn’t see at all! As Mozzie once said, perhaps I should take some time and get my edge back! Scary/ _ not nice _/ **scary!**_

 

Lord Betchem seemed to have a little trouble focussing his eyes, then said, in tones of loathing, “Oh, it is you.”

 

“It is I, Lord. I have come to apologise.”

 

“Ah.

         “Have you?”

 

Neal wasn’t sure what to say. The two sentences sounded unconnected, the question seemed conversational. Neal had enjoyed the odd fling with demon drink when he was much younger, before Mozzie had…made his displeasure felt about such loss of control and consequent vulnerability. Since then, he had endured and survived, usually but not always without excessive bodily harm, altercations with others who had never been fortunate enough to have a Mozzie in their lives.

  _The disadvantage of the Uniqueness of Mozzie! Perhaps we could clone him…._ At the picture this presented, Neal had to suppress a bubble of humour at the thought of a Matrix-Smith-like army of Mozzies, and what that would do to Peter’s mental health, forgetting, in _his_ mental state, the Lord’s powerful empathy, undimmed though perhaps blurred, it seemed, by ethanol.

 

“Think it is amusing, the whip?” Lord Betchem asked, still in that mild tone that was beginning to worry Neal ever more.

“Sir, I smiled at a thought, a personal joke about two friends of mine.”

“Most slaves, nowadays, take not seriously the dire threat of the Slavers’ whip,” the Lord went on, glumly. “It is not used frequently enough.”

“You are about to change that?” Neal asked, and the Lord humphed and stirred, obviously intending to get up.

 

Neal watched him with mixed emotions as Lord Betchem, not without some difficulties, emerged from the clinging depths of the chair and got to his feet. For a moment he wavered, teetered on the edge of falling back, put one hand on the arm to steady himself and managed to stay upright.

  

He truly did tower over Neal. His eyes met Neal’s and, holding his stare, Neal first tugged the neck of his top over his chin, then reached behind his neck and pulled off the soft pullover and the undershirt he was wearing with one movement, leaving himself naked from the waist up, other than the love-collar. He automatically ran a comb of fingers through his curls to settle them.

 

_If I can’t get out of it, get it over with._

 

“Where do you want to do this, Lord Betchem?

         “And because you seem unaware of this, there is no jurisdiction over Slavers that travel to other planets, and precious little over those who control the Slave floors and the holding pens. After being taken as a slave, and before being purchased by my Lord, I was beaten often with switches and sticks … and whipped thrice with a longer lash than that, though once it was a few licks only. Lira healed the remaining infected wounds and scar tissue.

         “But you have no post or framework, Lord Betchem, and I doubt I can stand for any length of time without being restrained, and you do not have the room in your study to use a whip with a thong of this length.”

 

This speech was partly bravado on Neal’s part. He was becoming increasingly scared of Lord Betchem’s ability to wield the whip with any accuracy. The Slavers that had abducted them had enjoyed their work, and they competed with each other to discipline the newly acquired slaves severely without destroying the cosmetic value of the merchandise.

         Neal was no expert, but he knew that whips of any length and quality could break bones and remove flesh. The tip could be travelling faster than a pistol bullet! To whip a human body repeatedly without letting the lash land above the shoulders; or let the tip curl round the body and leave scars or even worse damage on the thinner and less easily concealed ventral flesh, including face and genitals; or do more than bruise or cut the skin of the back: all these required strength and endurance, practice and skill. Being whipped was excruciating enough: being whipped by a large, powerful, angry drunk was a terrifying prospect.

 

However, his Lord had told him to treat Lord Betchem with the same respect as he would his Lord. No matter what. He had placed himself in this position, tricked the large man…with good intentions, but that was his opinion merely, and one which Lord Betchem did not accept. Therefore –

                 - Neal clamped down on his emotions, took control of them fiercely, glad of the practice he had since coming to Brethsham and hopeful that it was enough. He could not expect help, would not let any lack of emotional discipline call his Lord or anyone else. He could not allow the fire angel to react, either. He loved Lord Betchem and - no matter what - would not hurt him. Had never _meant_ to hurt him.

 

Lord Betchem frowned and then raised his eyebrows in an attempt to focus, but at this he blinked and put out a single, exploratory finger and touched Neal’s smooth shoulder as if unsure that he was there. “You are afraid, and you try and …protect me?”

 Neal stepped closer and took the hand the Lord had held out and smiled a little tremulously. “I am not afraid of _you_ , Lord Betchem, though I am unsure of your abilities at the present moment.”

 It seemed as though the combined clues of Neal’s bare back, the whip and Neal’s fear about his …slightly… inebriated state finally coalesced within Betchem’s brain. He drew back, shocked.

 “I am not intending to whip you, boy!” He sounded irritated, annoyed.

 “Uh-huh?” Neal queried, not sure what was going forward.

 The Lord smiled a little. “The whip…I see…I used to pretend I was going to punish my sons with it. They knew it was an empty threat…though I did, now and then, use the last two feet to spank them when they were little and being totally defiant!

         “Ethlan was in here, earlier, declaiming about my lack of sense, or – something – I know not exactly, he was shouting and I have been drinking, you understand.” This last in a soft, confidential tone.

         “I was cross and dragged that out of the drawer and threw it on the desk. It almost always settled arguments between us on the instant!

         “I have never used such a thing, truthfully, though there are slaves here who know the craft. As I told you, it is seldom used, now.”

 “Oh. Good. May I dress, Lord Betchem?”

 “Of course.” The Lord waved a hand.

 

Neal pulled on his clothing, disgusted to find that his fingers were trembling. He took some deep breaths to calm himself.

 

“I was … Neal, I was very angry this morning with your behaviour.”

“Yes, my Lord, and for that I am extremely sorry. I did not intend to anger you or displease you. I am sorry if my deductions are wrong, but all the Keeps of the Seven prospered when together. And of all the Brethshamen, only those outside the Seven would have rejoiced – if any did! – to see this strong Alliance weakened and divided.”

 “You had no right to take my choices from me. Not you or anyone! You could have just asked if I wanted them here!”

 “Lord Betchem! I hesitate to call any Lord here a liar – but seriously, you destroyed every piece of art with a Gorenman in it! You held your resolve for scores and scores of seasons. Say you that on the suggestion of a small, young, dark, alien son of the smallest Keep in the present Alliance, you would rethink such an entrenched position?”

 

Lord Betchem scowled.

 

Neal went on, “I thought if you were tricked into it – and I did trick you, and sorry for doing so I am not, just sorry that it angered you to that extent – you could perhaps re-adjust your thinking. You need not. Never invite the Gorens again, politely decline any invitations they advance.”

“This somewhat intelligent small, young, black-haired, alien son of the smallest Keep in the present Alliance considered not that the other Keeps – not yours or mine, but the remaining three – would embrace Trent and Goren with such fervour that if I remained intransigent I would merely look like a sulky child?”

“Did they?” Neal face lit up, then he sobered. “I am sorry if like it you do not, Lord Betchem.”

“My head thinks it is a good thing that the unchanging hostility of two such stubborn, useless young men – now much advanced in age – has been challenged. My heart remains completely unconvinced. I am a stubborn old man just as I was a stubborn young one! I have no wish to socialise with Goren!”

‘Determination is a very worthy attribute, Lord Betchem.”

“I will let you into a secret, Neal of Steel, of which you seem unaware: old men find change extremely difficult. It causes them to become angry and bitter.”

“How lucky then that old you are not, Lord Betchem.”

“Ah, then if that is so there are other reasons I am finding that even half a bottle of Trent’s gift of very powerful liquor is not dulling the anger and bitterness of being out-manoeuvred by a young alien heir to Steel.”

“What can I do, Lord Betchem, for truly, I love you, Lord?”

“I shall tell you. You may remember how stubborn, angry and bitter I am feeling. I know your heart, Neal, but I see you and you represent what has caused the anger and bitter stubbornness. You have made me look a fool, and that I will not tolerate. I would that you and your entire Keep would leave, tonight.”

 “B-but Lord - ”

 “Now, heir of Steel. There is to be no discussion. My mind is fixed.”

 “Yes, Lord Betchem.”

 Neal went to the door, thought a moment, returned and said, “I must remind you – again – that I came to you as an Earthling painter, and not the heir of Steel. I made it plain, and it is wrong of you to involve Steel. Would that you had taken the lash to me, it would have been fair and just, Lord Betchem, where this judgement is not. Will you reconsider? Punish _me_ , not my Keep!”

 “Perhaps I have found an apposite method of showing you my displeasure at being tricked by you…and recall, Son of Steel, that your Lord stood with you and behind you in this?”

 “As you would with your son, would you not, Lord Betchem? You fault my father for _loyalty?_ ”

 “He chose you. He supported you. You tricked me. Now if he wishes to stand by you, he may. Or he may take the responsibility of bringing you to heel.”

_Either a child or a puppy! I bring together the Original Seven Alliance Keeps, after more than a normal lifetime of separation – with Moz’s help! - and yet **still…!**_

****

“Please, Lord Betchem, it was not my intention - !”

“Boy, I have not the skill, and am certainly in no condition to whip you as you no doubt deserve, but I assure you I have slaves that can. If immediately you leave not, I will call those slaves, and that will be in _addition_ to sending Steel away.”

Neal shook his head. “I love you, Lord Betchem, but you are wrong in this decision, and I find myself disappointed.

         “When you wish me to finish the portraits, let me know and I shall come and fulfil the contract between us. You have my sincere thanks, Lord Betchem, however little they may mean to you. And – please do not blame me, or Steel, or Trent, for the head you will have tomorrow. I apologise for my plain speaking, Lord Betchem.”

The Lord looked as though he might throw something, and Neal withdrew. He closed the door behind him, stood thinking for a moment and then said to Towan, who was watching him unobtrusively but with great interest, “Your Lord is going to be very miserable tomorrow. It will help if you can get him to drink a large volume of water, perhaps? Perhaps ask Lira or Kitran to help him! I do not know if, like my men do with me, you can bully him into that, but do your best. He has been liberally enjoying the gifts of Trent on top of other libations and just one very small sample of their craft made me see double and the floor to tip!”

“Thank you, Master Neal,” Towan said. “I will try.”

 

 

 

_Now what?_

Neal couldn’t be sure if Betchem had told his father of the edict, or was leaving that to him. He hurried through the enormous Keep, and just came to the doors leading out to the lake when he saw Lord Steel, Mozzie, Litha and a little crowd of people coming towards him, laughing. His heart fell…he knew this would greatly sadden his father. He stood in the way, and his expression caused them all to stop a few steps away.

“What is it, Neal?” his Lord demanded, sharply.

“I went to apologise to Lord Betchem, my Lord. He told me he wishes us …Steel Keepers, all of us…to leave Betchem immediately.”

“Neal! Are you sure? That is an odd command at this time of night, and uncharitable in this weather!”

“He will not listen, though I promise you, my Lord, I made the contract with him as myself, Neal Caffrey, not your son or the heir of Steel.”

“I shall go to him and confirm this. He should not give this order to anyone but me, and that in writing!” Steel was obviously angry.

Neal shrugged helplessly. “I was there, I represent Steel in some small capacity.”

 

“Come, Brak, we will go and see Lord Betchem! The rest of you…we are leaving tomorrow or the next day anyway, and the activities will be more casual, so it will do no harm to package up the finery we will not use. I will come to the suite as soon as I may.”

 “Is this normal, Caerrovon?” Mozzie asked. “Surely, if he was making a proclamation on behalf of Betchem it would be made publically, and not late at night and during a celebration?”

 “This is not how I would choose to do this, Mozzie! We shall see.” Lord Steel strode off, throwing off his winter coat and not bothering to change his boots. Brak hurried to catch him.

 

The others went to their rooms and did as the Lord had suggested. Within a half-a-candlemark Lord Steel called from the main room and they gathered there.

 “Speak to Lord Betchem I can not. He is asleep and his men refuse to wake him...indeed, thought the attempt would be in vain. Brak did find Towan, and as he was readying him for bed his Lord told Towan that Steel must be gone from Betchem by morning, and told Towan to tell Grethyn – the Captain of his warriors,” he explained to those who did not know the name, “- to ensure it.”

 “Oh!” Neal said. “Then he meant it! I thought he might merely have been meaning to insult _me!_ ”

 “It seems so…that being said, Towan had hesitated to obey and tell Grethyn. He tried to see Lady Betchem, but she is also abed, and then Ambreth, but be found he can not. So it appears that Towan is unsure of the etiquette of this situation and dislikes taking this serious action on himself.”

 “Do we wait for confirmation from Lord Betchem?” Mozzie asked.

 Lord Steel shook his head. “If we stay, and it is indeed his wish that we left, it will create more disharmony and perhaps cause Towan trouble. I told him, upon hearing his tale, that we would leave as soon as we may. Both he and I would rather have spoken to the heir or the Lord or Lady themselves, but since by they are not …well, we cannot, which is why this is such an odd occurrence!”

 “Is there a second heir, as at Laffaysham?” Litha asked. “Barstellon would at least have some thoughts and give us leave to stay till the morning, he would take that on himself so that hold it against us Lord Laffay would not.”

 “No, Ambreth is the elder by a number of years and has always assumed the leadership role almost to the exclusion of the other children,” Steel told her.

 

“We should tell all the ex-slaves that are here, should we not?” Neal asked. “Those that are from Steel originally? They are wearing our colours! And many people came from Earth with Lira…oh, and get to see Andrew-Joey-Chick healed I shall not , nor make sure he gets to ride!”

 “’Everybody’,” Mozzie quoted, “ ‘sooner or later, sits down to a banquet of consequences’. I think Lord Betchem just served you yours, Neal.”

 “Thank you, Robert Louis Stevenson,” Neal snarked in English, annoyed, then returned to Sheel. “Firstly, if I ever did get to feast on all the consequences I deserved, this would be the smallest crumb of an appetizer! I did nothing evil, I tried to do good, and it _will_ be a good thing!”

 “Yes!” Litha said, turning a jaundiced eye on Mozzie. “My Neal is above reproach, even from such a hero as you, Mozzie!”

 Neal had to grin. “’Above Reproach’…hmm. Not sure of _that_ , Litha, though I would like to see that on my tombstone, if only for the delight of observing Peter’s face when he visited!”

 “I was not saying you are _dull,_ my Neal.” Litha was concerned.

 “Not sure Peter would ever bother to visit your tomb, Neal, but you know him better, I suppose,” Mozzie went on. “And you know what June would say – in her faith, you are exactly that: Above Reproach!

         “And you would have to be a ghost to see Peter come and visit your tomb!”

 “So then it is _not_ true that everyone gets to sit down at that kind of banquet!” Neal pointed out, triumphantly. “And I think being a ghost and haunting Peter would be wonderful! _‘Revenge of the Ankletted Conman…You Always Wanted to Know Where I Was – Now I’m always **Jusssst** Behind You!’_ ”

 “Could you children stop arguing and let the grown-ups think?” Steel asked.

 There was a sudden deadly silence. He looked at their faces and said, “Not that quiet! It is quite unnerving! As though you have been solidified by a blast of super-frozen air!”

 “Sorry, my Lord!” they all said in unison.

 

“How many sleighs did you bring, Lord?” Neal asked. “Because there are the same number of people, and the same amount of luggage as when you came. There are at least ten of us that would need transportation, as we came here with Lira, either from home or from Earth. I do not know if we can ask Lira to take them back, I think she is elsewhere. Think you it is safe for them to stay if they are not Steel slaves anymore?”

 “I am sorry, Neal, I think it would be better if we collected them and made our way back. However, you can translate at least some of them: Peter, Elizabeth, Jones, Emily, Rebecca – oh, no, she is ex-Trent – Sara – and Tammy can translate some of them, too, including Diana. They have been bouncing back and forth in a dizzying manner, going to see Theo at least twice a day! And most of them have been translated by you, and know you Earthlings can do this.”

 “Since I created this fiasco, my Lord, I am not going to sit in luxury at home while you ride in a sleigh! I will translate you home and come back and take the sleigh!” Neal told him determinedly.

 “And me!” Litha nodded. “It will be fun, Neal! We can pretend we are escaping the Evil Lord Betchem who plans to kill us!”

 Lord Steel smiled down at her. “Let us get all the Steel Keepers, past and present back here. I believe if they are living on Earth, and perhaps take the Steel colours from their lapels, the Lord of Betchem will not care too much! I also think that if you wish stay, Lord Betchem will hardly risk offending your Lord, Litha!”

“He has already been offensive to my Lord, and that is not Lord Laffay, though I love him still. It is you, Lord Steel, and for that, and being mean to Neal, I almost feel I should stay and confront the unreasonable man!”

“No, no, your husband-to-be has done enough in that area, Litha!” Steel touched her shoulder with light fingers, as he would any female kinsman. It was only with the Earthlings that he was becoming more demonstrative, in general. “Let us be as the gentle petals and drift away on the soft wind, or fishes that become water and softly swim through the holes in the nets. If he tries to fight, we will move out of his reach and let him overbalance his weight by his efforts.”

“And that is why I love my Lord Steel!” Mozzie said. “I like that philosophy!”

Lord Steel, looking perfectly calm, said, “Come let us collect our slaves and ex-slaves! Let us go first to their rooms, so we hopefully have not to wake them, and leave notes if there they are not!”

 “I think you should stay and rest, my Lord!” Neal argued.

“I think our men and women can pack for us, and get the sleighs ready, for as soon as we are ready, we should leave. Of course I will come and help! I thoroughly dislike packing or arguing with Brak about packing!” Lord Steel twinkled, and they hurried out.

 

Neal found June first, she had gone to bed and was sitting reading. He sat on her bed and explained, and she patted his hand.

"Stop looking so worried, my dear! For myself, I am pleased to be going back to Steel. You created a wonderful party, and I enjoyed every minute, but I feel like going home. Well, to one of my homes!"

They laughed together and Neal asked, "Was it arrogant of me, to try and change the course of the Alliance Keeps?"

"Obviously not, since you have done it, Neal!"

"Lord Betchem is very angry with me, and I think our Lord may be, too. It is _his_ second home!"

"You should have realised by now, Neal, that you do what you can, and do it well, or enjoy yourself, and do _that_ well, but you have no control over how other's react to you or what you do. Some will love you, some will hate you, some will criticise, some will laud you, no matter what you do, or do not do."

"I shall get you to come and be my advocate when I speak to Lord Steel!"

"As if Mozzie was not enough if you needed a representative! Neal, understand this - I love you as my son, but no more than the Lord loves you, and remember, he can read your intentions, and they were good."

"That did not stop Betchem, who reads me much more clearly, from throwing out my entire Keep!  Although he had been drinking, he knew my heart was in the right place over this. In the middle of a winter's night!"

"That is hardly of great import! The journey takes longer than a day any way, we travel through the night whatever the time of departure! And Lord Betchem reads you with his..." she waved her hand vaguely, "...gift. Our Lord reads your heart with his."

"Well, we are going by sleigh, my dear June, and yes, it wll be a road-trip, or a snow-trip or something! But you are here, ready for bed! Let us collect your things, all your baggage, and you can put on your robe and slippers and I will translate you back to your bed in Steel Keep!"

 

It didn’t take very long: some people were getting ready for bed, some were just talking in their rooms or in one of the communal sitting areas. The rest were on the ice still, and when they saw the Lord, Neal and Mozzie waving at them they came, and collected anyone else on the ice with ties to Steel.

They all gathered round the grand piano, and Neal went out to the solid lake and asked Adam for his notebook and pen and started making detailed notes – about such things as the grand piano! He made the list for Ethlan, because he did not know who else would be here who could ask Lira to heal Andrew-Joey-Chuck, or translate the piano and any remaining Earthlings to Earth – or to Steel, from where he or Tammy could take them home. Neal had the whole plan in his head, other than bits he had delegated to Mozzie, and now everything had to be changed and delegated to Ethlan! He was sorry, but part of him felt that Ethlan actually might be honoured to be an important player in this new plan, chosen out of all others there!

 

Of course, Adam and Mac wandered back to see what the notebook was being used for, and Neal took them aside and told them. “Don’t bruit it abroad, it will either make my Lord, or Lord Betchem, look bad, and I have no wish for either of those things to happen!”

“We are known to be rather good with secrets, Neal!” Adam gave a little smile.

“Yes, somehow I guessed that,” Neal told him. “I am sorry we are not going to get to know each other better - well, all four of us, including my brother! Still – my silly fault, I should have left it at the party!”

“Your intentions were good, Neal,” Mac said, earnestly. “It is sad that after you have done all the hard work and planning that you are to miss the final days, the camaraderie.”

“And perhaps we can meet next year, after all,” Adam said.

“I very much doubt that Lord Betchem will have the party, nor will we be invited!” Neal grimaced.

Lord Steel came up behind him and both Adam and Mac straightened up unconsciously. He heard what Neal said and smiled a little. “It is true, Neal, we do not have a lake, but there is nothing impossible about creating a sheet of ice for skating, we used to have skating parties when I was a boy, and we are quite large enough to host a party of similar size, perhaps asking the Lords and Ladies to bring a smaller retinue.”

“Have it at Steel next year?” Neal asked him. “Oh, you are truly the best of fathers and Lords!”

Steel’s face softened at his pleasure. “Have you made your plans, Neal?”

“I am trying to make sure I have not forgotten anything.”

“Let us have the list. I know who Ethlan is – he left the skating early and has not returned,” Adam said. “He is probably asleep. I will ask him on your behalf, or we will do what we can to make this go as you wish.”

“I wrote in Sheel,” Neal said, reaching to take the list and rewrite it.

“We know enough, and can get help if necessary,” Adam told him. “Remember, I like to write things, I read old documents and have a working knowledge of bits of many languages, some ancient! - and I learnt a little Sheel.”

 “Thank you both! I do so appreciate it!” Neal told them, shaking their hands, clasped wrist to wrist. “But I will only allow you to do it if you promise to come to the next party!”

 “If we can, we will, Neal!” Mac told him, and tucked the list into the inner pocket of his coat. They left together, and Neal watched them go, feeling irritated and sad that this had happened – especially as it was all his fault.

 

 

 

“So, do you all realise we are being _thrown_ out of a _party!”_ Diana said, suddenly, as though realising how good an event this was, surprising the rest with her beaming smile. “Is that not the way to tell if it was a good one?”

 Mozzie brightened (though this honestly could be said to be his first real party, so he was totally devoid of facts about their quality, but he was prepared to trust Diana on this!), Jones clapped, Peter and El looked at each other and laughed. Sally’s eyebrows went up.

 “What do you do when you get thrown out of a party?” demanded Diana, with relish.

 El and Jones spoke together and then Jones said, “You take the party elsewhere and make it even better!”

 “Louder!”

 “Happier!”

 Neal looked at his Lord and Mozzie and shrugged. “Look not at me! I have _never_ been thrown out of a party, and by the time the noise police arrive, I have usually left by some back window…”

 “With something valuable tucked under your jacket! Yes, we can well imagine!” Diana chuckled. “Come on – whose fire-bugs are these?” She waved at the lake and the trees.

 “We-ell, I paid for them – out of my own money, my Lord!”

 “His own at that moment of time…!” Peter scoffed, smiling broadly.

 “Money is always circulating, Peter! Some came into my possession and I shared some with Laffaysham for the bugs in special glass containers!” Neal was his usual innocent self. “I am sure it has since moved on further!”

 “Let’s collect them, then!”

 “You have a receipt?” Peter asked, amused.

 “No, but my word is good at Laffaysham. You can ask Trethwellion the glass-blower…”

 “Slip him a twenty,” Mozzie quipped, “that man will say anything!”

 “Being truthful about Trethwellian you are not, yet…?”

 “We are joking, Litha!” Neal told her, as they hurried out and gathered the bugs that had been left by the ice. Most had gone dormant, but perked up when they were held and warmed.

 

Suddenly, the whole group of mainly Earthlings seemed infected with the spirit of school children playing hooky! They went to the kitchen and grabbed food – a few of the left-over packages, with Jones and Sara trying to explain ‘doggie-bags’ to Tamlin all the while - but most of those they left for the other Earthlings – they made themselves rolls with nice fillings and asked the kitchen staff still cleaning up and readying for the morrow for pies and other snacks.

 There were quite a number of cases of Neal’s wine still unopened, so they took one of those (and Mozzie jumped unobtrusively to Steel with two more, and back, though he left the cases of champagne). The others left the kitchen, loaded up until they couldn’t carry any more. They trotted down to the stables, where all the slaves had the light draft-horses in harness, the rest saddled up, the sleighs all packed.

 

The Earthlings, giggling as though they were eight years old, attached the fire-bugs to the sleighs with the little wires meant to tie them to the trees. They scurried back and forth making sure nothing had been left behind, and using the bathrooms. Meanwhile, the wine and food were divided up, and then there was the usual road-trip arguments about who was sitting where and with whom, but soon the sleighs that had room for passengers had been assigned, and everyone climbed in and cuddled down under the blankets and furs. Togetherness would be a distinct advantage if the temperature fell or the wind rose! Some hardly souls climbed on the saddle horses.

 

The riding horses not in use were tied to sleighs, and the ‘designated drivers’ (Mozzie’s description) clicked at the horses and tapped their broad backs with the reins and the first sleigh – Lord Steel’s Keep Carriage, with his crest on the panels and all the upholstery in Steel colours, the cobalt blue exterior – set off, the others following in a nicely spaced convoy. Brak and Tammy, Joster and Merritt rode on each side as an honour-guard – and their horses had also been adorned with bug lights by the enthusiastic Earthlings.

 

As they reached the road that led directly away from the Keep, they heard cheers from the battlements of Betchem and, looking back, saw torches and more bug-lights waving ‘good-bye’ from there!

“I told all the Tassins we were leaving for another party!” Tammy called out, and the message was relayed down the line of sleighs. The snow was not deep, and Steel, infected (like an illness of some virulent sort, he thought!) with the mischief, told his driver to take a circuitous route, and his sleigh, followed dutifully by each of the others in turn, wound off the road to the left in a large crescent, then back over the road, serpentining away from Betchem Keep like a huge multi-coloured phosphorescent centipede in the snow! From the battlements, it looked spectacular!

 

Some of the Earthlings started singing and it certainly didn’t feel as though they were being sent home in disgrace!

 

“Neal not only worms out of trouble, he gets the whole Keep – well, those who are here – in on the act!” Peter said, half-admiringly.

“Oh,” said Sara, who had ended up in the same sleigh, “I don’t think so. Neal’s always good at putting on his game face, but he’s hurt and troubled, I think.”

“Didn’t look like that to me!” Peter commented.

“No, Sara’s right, Hon, he’d never show you that! Neal wasn’t ever without emotion – rather the opposite - but he could sure fake any facial expression necessary,” El said to her husband. “He really thought Lord Betchem liked him enough to … ”

“Condone his little charade?”

“Well, seems he thought he was doing the right thing.”

Peter nodded. “He always did. And he probably was, from the little I understand of the situation. But the Neal I knew never got involved in politics! He was always too smart for that! People don’t react like normal humans in those situations.”

“I’m going to get some sleep, all the same to you,” Sara said. “I am still in my pyjamas under this coat!

         “And I trust Neal’s instinct. Whatever happens with Lord Betchem, all the other Lord Keepers seemed really pleased to be together! They’ll probably work it all out between them, and Neal, even if he never gets to go back to Betchem, will have accomplished what he wanted.”

El settled down next to her. “Yeah. Neal’s plans went off the rails when he trusted the wrong person. Which he did, rather often. Seemed on odd weakness for a brilliant conman, to me! He could look all bright and shiny, but inside he was soft as a marshmallow.”

“Wish he’d learn not to be,” Sara said, a little muffled by her hood that she’d pulled up. “D’you think Litha will be good for him?”

El turned and said, “I don’t know! After all, she’s an alien and has this empathy thing – now _she’d_ be a perfect criminal or conman!”

“I think he’d have been better off with you,” Peter told Sara.

Sara said, sadly, “I wish that were true, Peter. But it was always defective, flawed, no matter what we did. The two of us came close, sometimes, but we were never in the same place together for long enough to settle down or even to be sure what there was there!”

“I’m sorry, Sara,” El said, patting her thigh. “This must have been very difficult for you.”

“It’s good,” Sara replied. “I would never have moved on unless he had.”

 

El squeezed Peter’s hand, hearing the loss in the words. Sara had really loved Neal! El had never been sure of the fact before. How sad that not everyone found the right other someone! Sara went on, “He’s so special – beautiful, obviously, intelligent, caring. But there’ll always be that…let’s call it lack of respect for law and order? Or common sense, one might speculate!

         “If I could have lived here with him, in this alien world, I think we could have made it work. Perhaps if I’d been abducted with all of you.

         “But to me it is so _weird_ , all the ‘my Lord’ this ‘my Lady’ that, everyone wearing Keep colours and Keep livery and slaves and servants and no telephones and strange people who heal with song.” She shrugged. “And he fits right in, I would never have predicted that!…well, he’s odd, he does unusual things, just as on Earth, but he has found a home and a father and he likes it here! He calls it ‘home’, do you notice? I’m glad. I hope he’ll be very happy. He deserves it!”

 

She was quiet after that, and El snuggled closer to Peter and watched the stars through the gap in the sleigh cover before falling asleep. They both knew how rare what they had was.

 

Peter cuddled his lovely wife and remembered how difficult he had found it, to accept a different society where his own, known rules did not apply. Perhaps that’s why Neal, who never regarded them with anything other than distrust or contempt, could relax and fold himself obediently at his Lord’s feet – because it was a _man_ holding the reins, a man he trusted, and not a ‘faceless organisation’ he couldn’t understand. Even during the periods when Neal trusted him, Peter, he’d known that Peter wasn’t in charge and so many times the ‘faceless people’ _had_ bent the rules, used the rules, just plain smashed the rules.

 

 _Well, I’m like Sara,_ thought Peter, _I don’t fit in here. It isn’t home. But I can visit, and see my friend, and I can make sure that there’s more transparency on Earth now, in her systems of Law and Order. Even if Neal never comes back for long, I’ll do that in the memory of my Criminal Informant who – with his funny friend! – taught me what was immoral about my Law._

 _Crazy fool!_ Peter smiled at the image of Neal telling them all to back off and persistently arguing with an alien three or four times his strength – and that was without his army of subjugated warrior-slaves, all bigger and better trained than Neal! _I can’t save him from himself, now…but, typically, he has found a whole bunch of other people who are always on his side, will always fight for him! I have to stop wanting to save him, and I have to realise that far more powerful people now can do the job better than I did – if he needs them! He’s very capable on his own._

Meanwhile, the object of their discussion and thoughts had turned away from Mozzie and Sally, cuddled up to Litha and kept his thoughts and feelings as still and bland as possible until she fell asleep, merely appreciating the stars just as El was doing. He was downcast because of Betchem’s reaction and concerned by his Lord’s response to it. His actions, alone, had done this: Mozzie would never have become involved, though, as usual, he’d been there helping!

 All of them had just been doing what was necessary to gather the slaves and pack up so they could be gone as soon as possible. He still was not sure how Steel felt about this. Steel and Betchem had a healthy trade but more, his Lord Steel loved Betchem, it was his home-away-from-home as a boy and Lord Betchem was as his father, Ethlan as a brother. This must be hurting Steel a lot, and he, the son Steel loved and trusted, was at fault.

 

_I keep hurting people I love. Even now. But I did the best I could. T'sall I can do.  
_

Neal fell asleep, tired out.

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 6

 

Yeah, boring to hear but love those comments!

 

 

 


	7. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bounced Steel Keepers travel home and they, including Neal, face up to what the consequences of the Gathering might be.

 

 

 

Neal woke when the sky was bright and the glare off the snow was intense. He struggled out from under the coverings and there were all the Steel Keepers, making a huge racket considering the open air, throwing snow-balls at each other to get warm and limber after a night in the sleighs or in the saddle.

 

Joster saw Neal and waded over to help. He had a dark cloth over his face, and a quick glance showed that everyone was wearing them. “I need you not Joster – ride all the night you _surely_ did not?”

“No, we did shifts lasting about a candle-mark, Neal,” Joster said. “I have only heard part of the story. Lord Betchem hurt you not?”

“Oh – no. I would have preferred that he had beaten me, truthfully. It was me – I did this.”

Joster patted his shoulder, awkwardly, something a normal slave would not have done to a normal master, and wound a thin dark cloth lightly over Neal’s eyes. “For the glare. Gone to see him alone you should not, Neal.”

“I would have left you outside his study with Towan, Joster. A witness to my beating I would have not desired!”

“Come and play in the snow!” Joster encouraged him, and they joined the others making a mess of the pristine white covering. Peter and Steel had abandoned the simple snow fight and were building forts.

 _Typical!_ Neal thought, and ran with difficulty through the deep snow in his boots to help his father and Mozzie. Merritt was already there, making snow-ball ammunition, and soon there were the beginnings of two well-built snow-walls facing off across an area of trampled snow. Tammy, counting quickly and gauging the relative strengths of the ‘armies’, defected from Peter’s fort and joined Steel’s.

 

“Steel versus Rock!” Mozzie grinned, building buttresses to hold the higher wall in place. “Who wins that one?”

“Rock can blunt steel, but steel can cut most rock, given time!” Neal told him.

 

Of course, neither of the groups waited till the forts were completed, they felt they had to start throwing snow-balls at each other. Steel’s group was much smaller, and Mozzie was not a great help, being almost shorter than the walls they had built, but Lord Steel, Joster and Merritt were tall and Steel, especially, had a knack with hurling large chunks of snow accurately at the enemy! Neal, Tammy and Mozzie went to work stockpiling more snow-balls for him.

On the other hand, Peter had many people on his team, and he used his excellent arm to accurately target the opposition. Neal, becoming hot with exertion, threw back his hood and then gasped as a huge, compacted snow-ball smashed against the back of his head, and he could hear Peter laughing across the snow.

Peter kept up a barrage of well-aimed missiles while the others, trying (not always successfully) to remain out of his line of fire, and laughing at how arduous it was to get any momentum through the snow, charged awkwardly across no-man’s-land and over-ran Steel’s fortifications, despite a last-minute desperate attempt to hold them off.

Each and every one of the fighters was now liberally covered with snow, gasping for breath and still laughing, so they all lay on fresh snow and the Earthlings made snow-angels, and then everyone staggered back to the horses and sleighs. Brak and some of the other non-combatants had changed the horses and tidied the sleighs, and made everyone feel irresponsible and silly as they stood and dusted off themselves and each other – except Steel.

“If you had joined us, we could always have done this afterwards, and we might have won!” he said to Brak. “We were very much out-numbered by Earthlings!”

“The horses needed to be walked, Caerrovon, as you know,” Brak said, calmly. He mounted one of the horses and moved towards the front of the line of sleighs, and Steel reached down, grabbed a large double handful of snow and hurled it at his man, who ignored the resulting snow-shower completely. Steel sighed and climbed aboard another horse.

 

Those riding in the sleighs dug into the food packages, passed them round and they all ate and enjoyed a strange combination of foods for breakfast, while Mozzie made sure the wine they had brought was not freezing under the coverings!

They all changed sleigh-partners, Neal and Litha rode and let Joster and Merritt catch up on some sleep. Peter came up beside them and Diana and Tammy pulled in behind.

“This,” Peter twisted round to say to Diana, “was the best idea you’ve ever had…perhaps not! You’ve had some excellent ideas! But what a lovely way to leave a party…I bet the rest are all still a little hung-over, and they have to sweep up all the tree-debris!”

“Oh, I didn’t remember Jones rode!” Diana said, as she saw that man, astride a larger-than-normal Steel steed, Emily sitting behind him, on the other side of the nearest sleigh.

“I can, just haven’t had much practice since being at Steel all that time ago!” Jones called across. “But I loved it…and we’re just walking, perhaps we’ll trot, this I can manage!”

“These horses are too wide for me,” Emily decided.

“Sit sideways!” suggested El from her seat in a sleigh, and Jones held his fiancée while she adjusted her position. She clung to his coat as tightly as she could with her gloved hands.

The horses loved the cold, which always surprised Neal a little. They pricked up their ears and threw their heads about with the joy of being alive and out in the fresh air.

Neal said to Peter, ““This is why I always try and get mine outside to exercise, except when the weather is too harsh for me.”

“I saw horses in Wyoming, after blizzards. They aren’t really designed for it, Earth horses, and they’ll hole up in canyons where the wind can’t get them, but it is amazing seeing them afterwards, pawing – which is ridiculous, _these_ could _paw_ , ours at home should _hoof!_ – pawing at the snow to get at the grass underneath. You know, bears I can see surviving even out in the snow, but horses don’t hibernate!

         “They lose the weak members of the herd, of course, to severe weather, but some foals are born in the storms and survive, cuddled amongst the adults.

         “Of course, Earth horses don’t have these coats like thick plush, even with their winter growth, and round ears and thick-lashed eyes worked well for these animals. They also seemed to be blessed with rapid metabolism, we can easily feel the heat through these thin leather saddles.”

"You were in Wyoming?”

Peter nodded. “Had some family out there, spent a Christmas a couple of times. The ranchers bring the herds into barns when it freezes, but there are still mustangs living free.”

Neal was silent, and Peter realised that Neal had never had a family anywhere to spend any time with.

“People don’t realise how difficult witness protection can be, do they?”

Neal glanced across and smiled. “I don’t think I had much family to vacation with to begin with! And I am not alone in that problem. One of the reasons I like it here, at least with Steel and Sunder – and I think Trent - the whole Keep is a sort of family. But yeah, WitSec only works because people believe their other choice is Death.”

“And some of them believe they can do some good by putting away violent criminals.

         “How do we know where the road is?” Peter asked. “This area has so few trees or houses.”

“The horses know, at least going relatively slowly. I think they can smell it or something!”

There was desultory chatter, but most of them just enjoyed the beauty and the experience. Travelling in a sleigh was like nothing else on …any planet! The soft sounds, the horses, the smell of the snow.

To those who came just for this occasion, it was the almost intense quiet that struck them. The sound of the skids on the snow seemed relatively loud, the jingle of the metal on the horses tack, the creak of the leather as some rider shifted in the saddle. Otherwise, it was silent: no birds calling, no buzzing insects, no muted, distant traffic, no screaming children or blaring radios.

 

“I love the quiet, I can think,” Mozzie said, riding next to Sara, who had never ridden but wanted to do something other than sitting in the sleigh. At the same time as he spoke, she said, “This could really get to me after a while! The quiet, as though we’re the only people in the whole…on the whole planet!”

They laughed.

“How do you go from New York to this!” she said, waving her hand. “I don’t mean when you were abducted, but you pop back and visit and then you’re back here…”

“Yeah, on the Slave Ship it was so deafening with terrifying, horrible noises that being on Brethsham was an enormous relief, even for me, all alone in the cold! But now it’s kind of fun…when we want noise and excitement, we jump back to New York. When that starts to grate, we come back here.”

Sara laughed. “Oh, yes, because you two can’t possible create excitement here! These last days have been positively tedious!”

 

 

 

Jones rode next to Litha at one point, and asked, “So you can hear Neal Caffrey’s thoughts? Now that would have been a useful skill back home!”

Litha looked at him and smiled. She liked Jones. “I feel more his emotions, Jones.”

“Most of us can’t imagine all the things that go on in Neal’s head, he’s always doing something, planning something, solving puzzles and thinking of at least twenty things all at once! Just the way he does complex mental arithmetic in his head! Isn’t he…exhausting to be around, for you? It certainly seemed exhausting trying to keep up with him when he worked...let’s call it with us, shall we?”

“He is,” she used a word that the ear-bug paused over and then tried ‘volatile’. “His emotions are complex. Some people can be ‘quiet’ – you are quiet, sometimes, Jones. Neal can be quiet when he forces himself: it is, for me, like watching someone try and smother themselves with a pillow!”

Jones chuckled. “Yeah, I can imagine that. So he’ll never be able to keep secrets from you?”

“Oh, I think he will learn. Our Lord Steel has told me how quickly Neal learnt to shield his emotions and thoughts from him. Now I am far more powerful than Lord Steel, it is true, but I shall enjoy watching Neal learn to outwit me!”

“I think he has found an unusual girl! Which he needs, don’t get me wrong!”

Litha laughed happily, and Neal looked across. It was as if he was attuned to her.

 

 

Sally had been avoiding Peter and El assiduously. Mozzie had this ability to shrug off the past: he was suspicious of everyone to some extent other than Neal, herself, June and Lord Steel, and even with those people he was watchful. So now, it seemed, Mozzie had relegated Peter and Elizabeth back to the general population of Earth. To be used, and helped if necessary, but otherwise left strictly alone. Neal appeared happy about them, he was able to let all the hurt go.

         For the same reasons, Neal had not told Mozzie about the extent of the destruction of the friendship between himself, Elizabeth and Peter - and then there’d been the alien wars, and not long afterwards, they had all been aboard Slave ships. She knew they’d come together out of necessity, to try and protect each other and, of course, June.

Sally, meanwhile, hadn’t known where Mozzie was after the attacks began, he had a digital footprint smaller than the dust-mites he hated (but rather respected), he avoided traffic cameras and tourists cameras, had a (perfectly warranted, in her experience) phobia about being known, being identifiable, being _found._

When she first met Mozzie and then Neal, people had said that Neal was brilliant, but to Sally he was quite clever, artistic, kind, pretty, but also almost blind to the encroaching wave of matrix-like control that one could try hard to avoid, as Mozzie did, or surf, as she did, or be drowned by, as most people, even Neal, would be and very soon.

She so seldom found anyone with whom she could share ideas and values – and then there he was, brought to her, to her astonishment, by the _FBI_ : a kind, thoughtful genius with lovely eyes and a sense of humour that matched hers.

Genius was a word bandied about loosely about anyone who could work out their change without electronic help, or who had ever solved a Rubik’s cube. Mozzie actually exceeded the accurate definition.

Sally was by nature, inclination and profession a solitary woman, living faceless and bloodless behind numerous digital avatars; she had thought that fate was fixed in stone for her, unalterable, had accepted it.

She could assess the attractiveness of Neal and Peter, how their measure of symmetry, their physique, would appeal to a large proportion of a species who valued health and looks above all. She learnt that neither was stupid, compared to the norm. But blue eyes or brown, smooth shoulders or deep chests, nothing turned Sally on like the beauty of brains allied with suss and extensive knowledge in a vast array of disciplines, naturally leading to a healthy paranoia. Mozzie was like a perfectly done steak to a starving woman!

The fact that their intense relationship, including delicious sex, had not lasted was sad but hardly unexpected. Neither of them stayed in any one place long: cemented attachments were dangerous. The enemy found one thread and pulled on it, putting many at risk. He let her know he was leaving her life, but if she was in trouble to contact him. He did not discount her abilities, which was part of his charm.

Then the ever-tightening electronic net was suddenly splintered all around the planet in a matter of hours as first the electrical grids failed, satellites fell and the cellular network died. There were more conventional weapons, and buildings crumbled onto cars that had become large paperweights blocking roads and freeways. Stunned people stumbled, panicked people fled. Many died. Drifting shadows of huge vessels loomed everywhere. The first invasion was designed to take over the planet’s resources and collateral damage was of absolutely no concern to them.

Her immediate thoughts were of Mozzie’s safety, but disruption of the grid made finding anyone using her practised skills an impossibility. Then the aliens deployed electromagnetic pulses on what, it seemed, was a very broad range of frequencies. Of course, everyone immediately fell into the habit of calling the weapons ‘Solar Flares’ though actually similar to coronal mass ejections, and they were far more dangerous, as the aliens utilized them within the atmosphere, thus rendering its normal protection null and void.

Sally had searched for Mozzie in every location she had known he had gone…she had, in her down-times, enjoyed finding the odd shadow on some surveillance footage that was probably him, and searching for reflections of his face in the smallest mirrored surface, hoarding the images in her memory and only in her memory.

         But after nearly two weeks, when she found no trace anywhere, Sally had re-evaluated her position, and left the city. The cities were where the attacks were concentrated, especially when the Slavers came. Mozzie wasn’t stupid, he would have left, too. If he had survived.

She grieved in her own, quiet way. Without computers, without any mid-range communications, let alone long range, the chances of them meeting again were infinitesimally small, even had he survived. She had known they would not be, as people said (those people out there who talk to each other) ‘an item’, but thought they could get together perhaps twice a year, or when one or other of them was too lonely, living with all the ideas jostling in their heads and with no-one to share.

She was unaware of the trauma. She was very good at ignoring and then burying her emotions. Emotions were notoriously fickle. A thought, a formula, a theory, maths, science, these had substance and outlived their creators. Even though the machines were destroyed, the ideas remained and the machines could be rebuilt.

         She did think often of the arguments between Neal and Peter, and how they had affected Mozzie once Neal explained some of what had happened.

 

Mozzie had a score of habitations, he had taken her to one and, she had to believe, one he used least frequently. That was just her Mozzie. But Neal was tied to a single home and therefore, indirectly, so was Mozzie. The security of that home was poor during certain times of the day, so she bugged the home so stealthily that even Mozzie would not find the tiny things, especially as they were off unless she was listening and watching, which she seldom did. It was just to give her something more than a reflection in a Japanese tourist’s sunglasses!

She had known what Neal had told Mozzie, and known that he had not told Mozzie the half of what had happened to him. Rebecca was bad enough. Peter had been far worse. Neal had thought they were friends, for some reason. She happened to be watching, and couldn’t believe her eyes at the multiple betrayals of Mozzie’s best friend.

         Now Neal – and Lira ! – said Rebecca _and_ Peter were healed. But she had seen the hurt and anger on Mozzie’s face and grief on Neal’s: those were some of the last images of them she had seen before the planet turned upside down for her, and all her many bright screens went dark. Neal had more or less moved to the FBI as all the military and quasi-military and LEO’s came together to fight the alien threat. Mozzie had not come up to Neal’s studio, but stayed downstairs with June. Sally had not bugged the whole house. And then her bugs were exterminated with all their electronic relatives.

She wasn’t a violent person, physically, she wasn’t good with people…but she was very good at doing without people! People who hurt her friends were good people to avoid. She just didn’t want to be around them. She could only hope they wouldn’t be at Steel very often. It also confused her to think that Neal was that forgiving. Perhaps he wasn’t as intelligent as her original estimate?

 

 

 

Neal wondered if the Earthling were very deliberately ‘having fun’ during the journey home so he wouldn’t mope. He _was_ disappointed that Betchem hadn’t realised, hadn’t at least shrugged it off once he had explained. He was disappointed to miss the end of the revelry that had cost him so much in time, thought and, though of less import, money. But, and this surprised even him: he wasn’t particularly worried or concerned. He and Mozzie had analysed the situation and done their best to put it right. If others thought they were wrong or stupid or treacherous, without even asking them their reasoning, that was a flaw in those people, not them. Somehow, he was done with accepting, and caring about, other people’s opinions of him, with the exception of Moz, Steel and June. Lira and Litha could read his soul!

_Peter probably helped me in this. He found he was judging me as though I was Bobby: his judgements were all flawed. Yet how I allowed them to distress me, believing he accurately knew my good from evil because of the contrast of our life-views! I knew his opinions to be constrained and moralistic from all our years together! Yet I persisted in the belief that he knew me better than I knew myself._

Moz had been with him on this venture with Goren and Trent, June always seemed to love him and not being able to visit Betchem would not bother her in the least…but Steel must be disappointed and sad. And usually when people were sad and disappointed, that turned to anger against whoever or whatever had caused that situation. Him, Neal.

So as soon as they reached home, offloaded the sleighs, unsaddled the mounts, made all the horses comfortable – all of which took considerably more than two candlemarks, even with the help of the stable staff – he showered quickly and went to find Steel.

Brak and Steel were sitting companiably in the study, no light but the golden glow of the fire, drinking ale and tea respectively, and Neal chuckled.

“What, Neal, is funny?” his Lord demanded.

“Painted you with your horse, my Lord, I should not! Or perhaps with your horse _and_ a cup of tea!”

Brak laughed, standing and finishing his tankard. “I will return and make sure you retire to bed at a reasonable time, Caerrovon. Nothing can not wait till tomorrow’s light!” and he stood, smiled a little at Neal, and left.

“Except you, Neal, am I right?”

“I would prefer to talk to you, my Lord, if too tired you are not, or…”

“If I was indeed your father, Neal, or your great-grandfather! - that short journey would weary me not! Come, be seated.”

Neal sat opposite him on the couch, and Steel smiled gently, pouring tea for them both. Neal raised his eyebrows and Steel shrugged, handing him the cup, “You sit not at my feet, my Neal.”

“Do you wish that I sit at your feet? I will, my Lord!”

“There is not need. I asked it not of you!”

“Yes, you did! That very morning when Lord Betchem was so furious with me!”

“You created that unique position for yourself, and it is true, I have recalled it to you! - when I believed you needed to remember your relationship to me, your unique place, as when you were loathe to see your departing Earthling friends and, yes, when Betchem challenged our bond. At as to the latter, I do thank you for obeying so promptly and gracefully and saving my reputation!”

“My place? To what place do you refer?”

“As my slave, at that time, my son now, in a place of protection.”

“And obedience.”

“Well, if you are not obedient to entering into that place, in your heart if not your body, my ability to protect you is less. Are you now regretting your obedience?”

Neal hesitated, and Steel watched him with unusual tenderness, though Neal was looking at the floor. Neal shook his head. “No, a wish to be less than obedient I have not. But – but I feel out of your protection, at least in part, because of what I have done and how it was received.”

“How is that, son?”

Neal met his eyes. “Angry or sad you are not, my Lord? At times, Betchem was more your home than Steel! There is also the aspect of trade: I may have lost you a great deal of money, put Steel in jeopardy, especially if the other Keeps agree with Betchem, as they did with respect to Goren and Trent.”

Steel was about to speak and Neal said, “I should thank you for standing behind me, throwing the support of Steel behind me, though I was excessively angry at the time, my Lord! And - ” He fiddled with one of the elaborate ties on his over-shirt for a moment, then went on, “ – Betchem used that to penalize Steel Keep and her Lord, rather than punishing me in my body as an individual.

         “He told me that you could stand behind me, or bring me to heel, my Lord.”

“Ah, he expects _me_ to punish you to get back into _his_ good graces?” Steel snapped, showing signs of his youthful temper, his light eyes flashing. “The Lord of Betchem grows astonishingly arrogant in his advancing years! Why should I punish my son when Betchem makes a sad misstep?”

“Um…” Neal was puzzled, “…it may be easier on the whole Keep if you did, my Lord, and reinstate Steel with the Alliance. For the reasons I wished to reintroduce Goren and Trent still stand true. Further, Steel is totally isolated, Goren and Trent are close and paired – and we are the smallest Keep, Lord, though Trent is also small.”

“Punish you for doing what you think is right I will not – I can read your intentions perfectly, my son – if the entire armies of King and Keeps were at the gates!”

“Well, my Lord, thank you, that is most sweetly said, but totally stupid!”

Steel laughed, rather to Neal’s relief, having just called his Lord and father stupid! “Neal, if something is wrong, it is indeed wrong. It matters not the consequences nor the circumstances! If I am to choose how I treat you based on what the other Lord Keepers may think, rather than what you and I think, is that not politics?”

“Perhaps they are right, and you are too lax with me.”

“Perhaps! I might have beaten you for your disobedience, or for placing your very dear life at risk without consulting my advice: at those incidents I could have justified such a decision.

         “You have worked hard and taken great thought to make the Earthling slaves, past and present, happy and more settled, and at one and the same time re-created the greatest alliance of Keeps the planet has ever known, with, as far as I can see, no benefit to yourself at all. We have traders who visit Goren and Trent, though on a limited basis - and therefore you have your special paper! – and therefore _no_. Under no circumstances would I consider punishing you when you should be greatly praised and rewarded.

         “If Mozzie was here he could correct me, but is that not increasing a placement of a ‘stupid’ bet by ‘totally ridiculous and absolutely wrong’?”

Neal smiled, then sobered. “How extensive is the disservice I have done Steel, even if totally without that intention, my Lord?”

“I doubt we will notice it, Neal.”

Neal’s eyes widened. “B-but – !”

“You studied Goren and Trent and the other Keeps, but have not gone into sufficient detail about your own Keep!

         “My father was a stern and strict man, given to rigid protocol and not in any way humorous - or sensitive, except about his own rules, policies and agenda! However, he meticulously followed a pattern started by my great-grandfather and pursued by Steel Keepers from those times.

         “They saw the damage that one quarrel had done within a confederacy that had beforetimes provided great benefit to each and every member. They did not wish us, especially as we are the smallest Keep in terms of numbers, to be vulnerable.”

Neal leaned forward, keenly interested.

“You understand in part the inter-Keep trade, Neal.”

“Yes, of course.”

“What is the advantage of trade?”

“To get what you have not, to give what you have in excess. Money, Marks or other commodities, such as gold, may be used to facilitate the trades.”

“And it is better to trade from…”

“A position of strength.”

“And that is…?”

“Not desperately needing anything, nor desperately needing to sell anything – or being able to make the other party believe this!”

Neal was beginning to see.

“Exactly! (Preferably the former, my conman son!) So it is far better to be independent in as many aspects of life as possible, especially those that are vital to the adequate functioning of the Keep and all her peoples.

         “We are in that position, now. Even if every other Keep cut off trade with Steel, we would manage, though we would have a period of adjustment.

         “Yes, our hardwoods grow even slower (and denser) than Betchem’s, but we have small stands growing, relative to Betchem’s they are very small, but we expand a little each year.

         “Yes, we have only very poor grade coal, and our iron ore is not easy to mine, and of a low iron per cent age , but we have some supplies on which to draw. We may not have extensive foundries and a hundred expert sword-makers, but we have always made swords here, and we have some skilled ironsmiths, and many others that need practice and experience, merely.

         “Yes, our grains grow more slowly than at Camber, and we are often forced to bring water to them in the driest warm months – but we have them, sufficient for our needs at a pinch, and can expand that, also.”

“And our goods that we have in excess? Fabrics, horses, cutlery, sand…?”

“The people who work on providing things that are in excess of our requirements have been trained in a secondary skill for this eventuality, so they would merely shift from one job to another. They may enjoy the change!

         “Some machines would be shut down for as long as necessary.

         “The horses being trained could be sent back to Sea Keep, as the biggest waste is feed, we would want that for our own food animals, and on the dunes by the sea there are coarse grasses and sedges that the horses will eat. Jarad has trained dogs – relatives of Des and Dam – to guard and guide them, bring them in on command.”

 

“So we are secure?” Neal was thinking, calculating, the pride in his Keep – and its Lord Keeper - a glow within him.

 

Steel smiled, feeling Neal’s joy. “This is all in the _most_ unlikely eventuality that every Keep sides with Betchem!

         “I cannot see the value of creating just one commodity, or a few – every Keep should be totally self-sufficient, I think! Then we can trade our excess!”

 

“Understand why Earth countries follow not such policies I know not. Since the alien wars they are being forced to go back to this way of thinking, and they are finding some of it difficult; but many of them, including my own, put themselves at great strategic risk. Mozzie has a thousand theories!” Neal smiled.

         Steel smiled back. “I admit, I do not discuss these principles with the other Lord Keepers, nor advertise our policies, even with my dear friends, for my family and Keep is my first responsibility! If they find themselves having to scurry to create a textile industry before their wives become angry with them because they wish to cut us out of their trading, that is indeed their choice!”

“But, Lord – from a security standpoint…?”

“If we were looking at a Keep War, I admit it would be of some concern. But we do have a big, strong, well-built Keep, and most of our inhabitants can wield a sword. We have water within the Keep, we have stores of food.

         “And I can not help but think that the Earthling thinking – especially that of the two sons who caused all this problem! – would work in our favour if there was a threat of war. But Neal – there is no sign of any military action about to take place!”

“So we can thumb our noses at Betchem – and the rest, if necessary!”

Steel’s eyebrows drew together a little, but understood the concept.

“In that case, I will come and sit at your feet, my Lord!”

“No, that you will not!” Steel got up, took the two steps over to the couch and sat next to Neal, pulling him close. “The time and occasion I had not, there are many people at Betchem, activities, you had your friends and were busy with the organisation, but I so wished to tell you: I am extremely proud of you, Neal!”

“My Lord?”

“The party, the Gathering, you went to a great deal of trouble and I saw and heard the delight of your planetmates! Several slaves have asked to come here, and we will have perhaps some added skills when they become integrated.

         “Why or how you decided to try and bring Goren and Trent into the fold again I have no clear understanding. I wish to hear – perhaps tomorrow, in the company of others, who I am sure also wish to know details – why you chose to do it the way you did. And how you convinced them to come!

         “No-one has thought to do so before this winter, and you, an offlander, accomplishes it all alone! In secret, but I feel I should not be surprised at that, considering the perpetrators!”

“Yes, it was all with Mozzie’s help, my Lord!” Neal added, smiling and snuggling against his Lord, who hugged him. “You are truly not angry with me?”

“I would tell you, Neal, if I were! I am saddened by Lord Betchem’s response to your efforts, but he has the right to choose his course as I have mine!

         “I was concerned over your visit to Lord Betchem: he has a temper, as you no doubt saw!”

Neal told him about the drunken Lord and the whip, making it a very humorous tale about his total confusion, and Steel laughed infectiously. “That stupid whip! He would always wave it at us when he became cross…very soon we came to know it meant he was serious, that we were risking a punishment, perhaps even a beating but that we were in no danger of being whipped with _that_ …if you saw it, in very good condition it is not!”

“I hardly saw the Great Lord of Betchem, he had the lights down low! I would take a wager that the next day he would have wished them even less bright!”

“Oh…?”

“After drinking champagne, and wine, both local and from Earth, he downed at least half a bottle of Trent liquor, one sip of which nearly took the roof off my own head, and I notice that even Mozzie treats it with some respect! I am quite sure that the Slave ships probably could use it as fuel when they head into space!”

“Thank you for that warning! As you know, of even such mildly intoxicating drinks such as wines I partake seldom. Since the party, and though yet to be confirmed in light of current events, I am expecting to visit or be visited by the Lord Trent family. I will be very cautious of anything they offer, if drink it like stream water Mozzie does not!”

Neal shifted and Steel looked down into limpid blue eyes. “Have you actually ever seen Mozzie drink water of any description, my Lord?”

They laughed heartily together as families do over in-jokes no outsider can fully appreciate!

 

When Neal returned to his room, it was came as not a complete surprise to find Litha already asleep, curled up in his bed. He looked down at her with a deep and abiding love, of an order he had never experienced.

He sat a while, just watching her sleep, thinking of how she had reacted at the Gathering. Her lack of jealousy which, he admitted, probably stemmed from her reading of him; her generosity, her beauty, her willingness to give herself to him with complete trust…and that he found difficult to believe was because she could read him! He had never seemed trustworthy to anyone before, not fully, not for any length of time, not under all circumstances - and certainly not to himself! Well – Steel nurtured a belief in him that seemed unreasonable and untried, also!

The other thing that struck him was her loyalty and lack of fear. If he was going up against Betchem, so was she, even unarmed! Not that he ever favoured timid women, rather the opposite, and Alex and Rebecca would probably have fought for him had he given them the chance…but he had always tried to shield June, Mozzie, Alex, Rebecca, taking burdens on himself and getting them away from harm. Not because he saw himself as any kind of hero, but the harm _had_ usually been caused by his actions and therefore it seemed only fair!

_Perhaps I just didn’t have time to be concerned with protecting her! It may be that was my Earth persona …Mozzie stood by me – well, not quite shoulder-to-shoulder, but as close as possible, facing those assassins! I feel that Litha will be standing by my side, equals, for a long time, as Mozzie and I, and June and I are equals, though we tend to stand in different places, those two and I! June usually provides quiet backup, Mozzie is often behind some curtain with gym-bags full of Russian surplus or organising ridiculous and apparently impossible escape routes and methods! (That funny, characterful plane! I wonder where it went…though translating makes it somewhat redundant.) But perhaps it is time to have another front-man! What cons and heists we could run, the four of us!_

He did the last few things to prepare for bed, added coal to the fire and, taking the extra caross, curled up in front of it on the warm carpet.

 

He woke, sneezing – not from a dusty floor, but Litha’s curls were tickling his nose.

“Litha!” he exclaimed, and sneezed again. “You are not supposed to be sleeping with me – yet!”

“We slept together in the sleighs?” she said, pushing errant curls behind her ears and smiling at him.

 _She is as beautiful first thing in the morning as adorned for me at our betrothal!_ Neal thought, giving in and hugging her. _Those dark, thick eyelashes, clear green eyes…smooth marble shoulders…_

“And you were fast asleep and I was a little cold, Neal!” his fiancée went on. “And we were as well-behaved as in the sleighs!”

“Yes, but for your reputation, in the same wing of the building, Litha, dear, be we should not! We have no chaperon as we had in the sleighs! And I was well-behaved because I was fast asleep!”

“My mother, father and Lord and Lady Laffay could read me and ascertain our innocence, Neal.”

“ _Your_ innocence, perhaps, dear! I am in no way innocent, divest yourself of this delusion!”

“You like to pretend you are so…wicked? It is your signature, is it not, my Neal?”

“No, have to pretend I do not! It was a great deal of work over decades!” He was smiling at her, watching her mouth as she spoke, appreciating the lovely shapes her lips formed.

“I am talking specifically about your relationship with women, Neal.” She primmed up her mouth.

“Oh, that! Well, work that was not, certainly. You have met…yes, you have met all but poor, doomed Kate. They are easy to love!”

“But exactly! It is as I say, Neal!”

“What is?” He still found her mental processes hard to predict! How lovely _that_ was! Most people were unutterably boring and mundane in the ways their brains worked. He was immediately attracted to those that stood out from that! _Of course, with practice, knowing every mental step makes conning those others easy!_

“You loved them. There was no wickedness.”

“You see me that way, as does June and my Lord Steel! It is not a common image of Neal Caffrey!”

“You are in every way exceedingly _uncommon_ , my Neal! You are so beautiful and clever and brave. You translate from one planet to another, knowing not the space between! You have opposed flowers that can kill without swords, many men holding your Keep’s children, and also the Lord of the biggest and most populous Keep.”

Neal felt exceedingly uncomfortable at this. Oh, he knew he was good-looking, a conman has to know his strengths and that had proved invaluable over the years. He knew he was of above-average intelligence and it had been borne upon him that he thought in different ways, more laterally than normal, though it seemed to him the only way to think, of course. The ways others thought, when they bothered to do so, now _that_ was odd!

_I am not brave! I deal with situations that arise as best I can, that is all! Usually by talking my way out of things!_

“Do you wish to shower here, Litha,” he asked, getting up. “I shall go through - ”

 

She jumped up and hugged him hard. “You may take me to my suite, Neal, all my clothes are there! And that will soothe your Earthly concerns over my virginity.”

Neal sighed. “You say just the things to me that say you should not! Yes, I will take you back, and immediately!”

 

 

That breakfast was a raucous, happy affair, a continuation of the rebellious spirit of the party-goers! They held it in the large diningroom – the first time Mozzie and Neal remembered eating there! So many people came in from fields and stables to welcome them and find out which rumours were true! Litha was a little surprised at the total lack of formality: they used the ‘everyday’ cutlery and crockery, the person fetching more water was as likely to be Lord Steel as the youngest kitchen slave sharing the meal. To the Steel Keepers, of course, it was just a larger gathering than usual.

         All those who had not attended were entertained with stories, various versions and many people speaking at once! There were gasps of surprise and bursts of laughter. Neal found himself once again the object of approving and amazed glances, and eventually he tapped his water glass ( _and yes_ , he noticed, _Mozzie does not have one!_ ) and as the chatter quieted he said, “Before you believe I was responsible, all alone, for the ousting of our Keep from the Alliance, let me clear up this confusion! – my brother Mozzie is at least as much to blame! All I did was organise a party!”

Diana, taking advantage of the lull in the noise said, “Caffrey! First of all, that has to be the most intricate and complex party ever devised! How did you think of the fire-bugs? And the turkeys? And the silver charms in the puddings?”

“I actually wanted a costume party, Diana,” Neal looked a little sheepish, “but they are only fun if people make their own costumes, and the slaves could not, so – perhaps another time?”

She shook her head in amusement, and everyone started to talking at once, again. Then Steel stood up, and everyone quieted.

“Each of you may have been made aware of the result and ramifications of the party at Betchem. Because of …personal reasons, Lord Betchem asked us to leave. It is all very irregular. Call the Lord Keepers together he did not, speak to me, or provide a written edict he did not, but merely told Master Neal – and then some of his staff – that we had to leave before daybreak.”

There was a hum of murmured comments, and Steel nodded.

“I think it most likely that think the situation through carefully he did not…”

Mozzie sat forward and Steel noticed and nodded to him. “Lord Steel, from what I could ascertain, he did much the same thing when he and Lord Goren, and by geographical and political association, an earlier Lord Trent, had a disagreement.”

“Oh, then perhaps the situation is more serious than I had supposed,” Steel went on. “But here is the way things stand at present: it is a possibility, scant in my estimation, that Steel may be cut out of the Alliance.”

This time the comments were louder and many expressions were shocked. Neal felt dreadful. Litha patted his thigh and smiled. She leaned over and whispered, “It will be exciting! Like a romantic story, yes? The little Keep standing proudly victorious against the might of all the rest!” He grinned. She went on, pensively,” More romantic if it is left a smouldering ruin, the enemy finds us huddled together, our hands entwined – our love immortalised, for we can never be defeated nor separated! They shed tears for their brutality.”

         She smiled brightly. “That works, too!”

 

Steel continued, “Before we become alarmed, be reminded that we are self-sufficient in many ways. I am not concerned, and indeed, this may be nothing whatsoever. Our heir has just become betrothed to Litha of Laffaysham,” he waved a hand at them, and the faces brightened and there was a burst of clapping, “and I know you will welcome her to our Keep. I am a merely sorry, Aramalitha, that this other silly episode has shaded your first homecoming to Steel.”

“It is of no consequence, my Lord,” Litha said, shrugging. “I have felt at home here since I first set foot in Steel. Thank you for welcoming me, however. I am very glad to be permanently part of your Keep.”

Steel smiled at her, and went on, “Because of this love-alliance, I feel sure that Laffaysham, already bonded to me strongly by blood, as most of you already know, will align not with Betchem.”

“And Sunder has some small reasons not to,” Neal said, thoughtfully. Steel eyed his younger son, wondering what he had done now!

“And,” Brak added, “I do not know how Goren and Trent will vote, if asked. They may not wish to lose this link to Betchem, after all these generations – yet Neal and Mozzie of _Steel_ brought about this link! From my observations, however, Caerrovon, Trent will certainly be leaning towards friendly relations with Steel!”

Neal raised his eyebrows, and looked at Mozzie for elucidation, but Mozzie was smiling to himself and did not notice.

Steel went on, “We will need to be ready to shift balance as soon as we see which way this colt jumps. But until then, I would like you, Klenalth, and the stable staff, to choose which horses will stay and which will be returned to Sea as soon as the passes are free, if necessary.

         “Every other craft: complete work orders that you have already started. Put a temporary hold on others until I tell you otherwise, or you hear from that Keep directly. Please let me know immediately if that happens.

         “Other than that, we can do little until we know anything for sure, and then when the weather warms we will change our planting schedule, move more people to the fields, increase the mining and other tasks. Because of this, please make sure you have every piece of clothing, gloves, aprons and boots you will need, and let Lucilla know of those you still require. Let Arem and Tallowet know of tools and machinery that is old or requires maintenance or replacement. Give everyone time to do what is needed.

         “Obviously, you take these orders and disseminate them to those who could not be here and do that as soon as possible, but urge everyone to remain calm. It is almost certainly going to melt away into nothing.

         “Thank you – and continue with your meal!”

 

Diana stood up as he sat, and asked, “Can I speak, Lord Steel?”

“Of course, Diana,” Steel said, a little surprised.

“Well, it is a great pity that because of whatever bee got into Betchem’s bonnet…I mean, whatever personal concerns bothered Lord Betchem! – that Neal and Mozzie’s efforts to create a celebration _and_ ,” she turned to them, and said, “of course, _that_ wasn’t enough, you couldn’t leave well enough alone, you had to somehow lure Goren and Trent Keeps to the party!” then she shrugged and looked around and went on, “bring old friends together have been overshadowed, like Litha’s welcome here. I would just like to thank them, and their men, most heartily. It must have been a great deal of work, and was so much fun!”

“Here, here!” called June. “I have missed such dancing, music and socialising!”

“And they provided so much unexpected theatrical entertainment!” Peter added, laughing.

The people around the table were talking and clapping, and Steel said, “I think next time we will not waste my son’s efforts on other Keeps. We will have a party here, for _our_ people!”

After the reaction died down a little, Neal said, “It was a great deal of work for Betchem’s slaves, my Lord! They did not really get to enjoy it very much! And, to be honest, after the consequences of this party, I am going to retire…ask Elizabeth! She’s the expert! I don’t think she’s caused any international incidents!”

Elizabeth looked startled, and Peter said to Neal, “Do you know what she charges…?...oh, yeah, that’s never a problem for you, is it?”

Neal grinned and said, “I promise not to pay Elizabeth in anything that may be entered into evidence!”

 

 

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 7

Comments welcome!


	8. Family and Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying up loose ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, all those who read, and most especially all those who commented and shared!
> 
> If you have a bit of extra moola, and want to thank Marsha for her efforts in WC, they are raising funds for a movie with her and Ryan, from Castle. I told JE the should ask for funding for WC this way, since 'it's all about the $$$' was the cry of the time! I loved Di, so donated a little something. Would be wonderful if we could go and chuck a few bucks in for a lovely story on AO3, too...cheaper than books and gas to the library!  
> Do consider a small donation:  
> https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/the-extraordinary-farewell

 

 

 

After the morning meal was finished, Lord Steel stopped Neal and Mozzie and asked if they could explain how they had gone about the party: he wanted details! Diana, standing right there, nodded, and the Lord said, “I am going to be aiding Klenalth, answering questions, catching up on things around the Keep. Brak and Ophera will be dealing with a few new slaves who decided to move here. I assume you will be translating other Earthlings back, and getting some well-earned rest?

         “So, perhaps after the evening meal you could share?”

 

“My Lord,” Neal frowned a little, “if we were _your_ great-grandfathers, tired out by such a short journey we would not be: we spent plenty of time sleeping in the sleighs or sitting on the back of a walking or trotting horse!”

 

“I apologise!” Lord Steel chuckled. “However, it occurs to me that you should both consider this: as your father and your Lord, need to ask you for explanations after the events I should not: your death, Neal, the murderers, the party…?”

 

“At least,” Peter said, drily, “you _get_ explanations!”

 

Steel nodded at Peter and El and said, “It was nice to see both of you again!” He strode away and Neal watched him, amused at how easily and calmly the man had accepted being, at least potentially, an outcast Keep, the subject of economic embargoes and sanctions, entirely because of his sons’ meddling!

 

Litha took Neal’s arm. “Neal, I have to sort out things that I brought from … from what used to be my home! I shall take them to Lucilla, Ophera says, so we can keep them till your suite is ready. I know not when that will be, and I need little for the moment.”

 

“I think our rooms are proceeding well, Litha, dear. Later today we can go and see what still needs to be done, what needs to be chosen.

         He shifted to English: “June! You have marvellous taste, also, I would love you to come and look at our suites. The main room is about finished, but I can always use your good eyes and taste in the bedroom, bathroom and sunroom!

         “If our father has people in the Greatroom, there is a great deal of room there for you, too, any time you wish to be private.”

 

“I will, just give me a call, I’m going to see about helping Ophera.” June waved as she went off towards the kitchens.

 

“And I will be awaiting our time together!” Litha said, kissed his cheek and he watched her walk away…a lovely sight, except that she was walking away!

 

Peter was standing awkwardly. “Neal, I am sorry to impose, but could you take us back – or at least me? I have taken off far too much time from work.”

 

“Of course, Peter.” Neal looked over, “And Elizabeth? Do you wish to stay for a while?”

 

“Neal, I do like it here, but I miss my home and my dog! It was a splendid party, I love my dress, I must go and thank Lucilla…oh, there she is! But then I’d like to go back with Peter?”

 

She went to speak to Lucilla, and Peter and Neal were left walking down the corridor together. Peter glanced across and told Neal, “You never cease to surprise me, Neal!”

 

“Why?” Neal smiled a little smile. Peter hadn’t liked to admit that Neal could surprise him, when they worked together.

 

“What made you want a party at all? And at Betchem’s? And what possessed you to become involved in politics?”

 

“I just thought it would be fun, and I could do it…well, as usual, Mozzie helped. Invaluable, Mozzie! Where are Moz and Sal?” He looked round vaguely.

 

“I asked Tammy, and Diana thought it was okay for her to tell me, since I won’t be around, and I _can_ keep secrets! – that you deduced that Goren and Betchem were the two primary instigators because of the damaged art work at Betchem?”

 

“Yeah, there was nothing at the other Keeps. I didn’t get a chance to study the art at Goren and Trent, but there didn’t seem to be anything odd there, either!”

 

Peter stopped him with a hand on his arm, turning him a little. His expression was serious. “Neal – you don’t think that Betchem might destroy the paintings you did for them?”

 

Peter had seen Neal shrug off being captured and roughed up by a vengeful Wilkes; nearly shot by Adler; nearly drowned by Keller, thinking the fantastic art work of the treasure was blown up, and having Peter accuse him of it; even finding out his beloved was an assassin…and that was before being abducted by aliens! …but he’d never seen quite that blank look of horror on his friend’s face.

 

Meanwhile, Neal was not seeing Peter. He was seeing the many vandalized and mutilated paintings and group sculptures he’d noted at Betchem, and imagining Lord Betchem - still, in his vision, drunk and furious - taking his ceremonial dagger to his Lithalialista and Caerralissia. He swallowed, and swallowed again, but the image was too real, the pain to sudden. He stumbled away a few steps to the wall and threw up.

 

Peter had his hand on Neal’s back in a moment, digging out a handkerchief for him. When Neal seemed to gain some control, he put his arms round his shoulders and helped him to his room and got him into the bathroom to wash out his mouth and then made him lie down while Peter got him a glass of water. Elizabeth appeared and Peter called, “Here – stay with him, give him this - I’ll go and find something to clean up!”

 

Elizabeth came over and sat on the chair next to the bed. “Neal! What happened? You’re never ill!”

 

“I’ll be fine, El! Really! Just at the time – sorry! I feel so stupid!”

 

Peter arrived. “Whim and Tron were already cleaning up. I’m very sorry, Neal, I should never have said anything! I’m sure he won’t!”

 

“He, who?” asked El. “And won’t what?”

 

Peter kept an eye on Neal, and said, “I – I just wondered if Lord Betchem might …hurt Neal’s painting.”

 

Neal nodded. “My instinct was to jump straight there, but I _can’t_ , he’ll take it out on Steel, especially if I steal his paintings, even if they aren’t the most valuable he has! I can do _nothing!_

 _“And,_ Peter, that’s exactly how it feels to me! As though they are my children! Or part of **_me!_** I’m sorry to – to over-react!”

 

“He’s not an _idiot!”_ Elizabeth exclaimed.

 

“El, he was very drunk, and very angry! And you should see some of the other art he destroyed – some beautiful sculptures - ”

 

“I think he’ll wake up with a horrible hangover, not in any fit state to go attacking anything! – he was very unsteady on his skates, and I was told he’s normally an excellent skater! - and then perhaps his man will tell him about your discussion, and he’ll feel very silly!” Peter said, putting his hand on Neal’s arm. “He’ll remember that you got rid of the flowers, and the murderers, how much you’ve done for everyone here.”

 

Neal sat up. “I’m fine. Sorry – feel such a fool! And – and anyway, if he’s done it, he’s done it. Nothing I can do now.”

 

“If I could create such beauty, I’m sure I would feel the same,” Elizabeth told him. “I get very upset when someone just orders the wrong flowers or red ribbons with pink roses and, once, some drunken moron came to a party and knocked the ice-sculpture all over the floor!”

 

“And trust me, I heard about _that_ for weeks!” Peter told Neal. “And then, Hon, there was the time that the four-tier wedding cake tipped over…”

 

“Yesss!” El hissed, her eyes flashing! “the baker hadn’t secured the pillars with skewers – as I specifically demanded! The bride was in tears!”

 

“Unlike the cake,” Neal joked a little damply.

 

Peter made an effort to back him up. “You know, if I’d known that’s all I had to do to control you when you were my CI, I’d have just threatened your Monet with my pocket knife!”

 

Neal, recognising with pleasure real teasing, and not the mocking Peter had usually thrown at him, grinned and shook his head. “You could never, Peter! Some of those paintings in my loft _might_ have been originals!”

 

Then Neal did manage to laugh at Peter’s look of total startlement. He was no expert…imagine if Caffrey had been hiding original masterpieces in plain sight…!

 

“Don’t worry, Peter, I’m no longer your CI, and all the artwork I have is authorised, for me to restore or replace!

         “…Most, anyway!”

 

“So you can tell me…did you ever do that?”

 

“You just worry that Mozzie, June and I were laughing behind your back at you!” Neal chuckled, feeling better all the time.

 

“Well,” Peter said, standing straight, and taking a deep breath, “you could have done it. I’m no expert. If you’d been waving a brush over the thing when I came in, I would never have questioned that it was yours, I know some forgeries you are alleged to have in galleries… including, I believe, a Haustenberg…? And I’m glad I didn’t recognise the originals, or I’d have to have arrested you.”

 

Neal grinned at him. “Actually, that Haustenberg portrait, ‘Girl with a Locket’, that we presented to the curator after arresting that mean thief, was quite badly damaged by an alien-war-unrelated fire, if you discount the fact that the Channing’s fire suppression system was knocked out by the Flares. I – er – I was privileged to have been given the job by that same curator of making a good copy for them, which hangs by the remains of the...original.”

 

“Only you, Neal!” Peter groaned, as Neal stood up. “I can not think that many great forgers have two – _two!_ \- identical forgeries hanging side by side in a museum or gallery!”

 

“I admit nothing!” Neal told him.

 

Peter’s grin said, ‘ _Why am I not surprised?’_

Joster suddenly appeared at the door. “Master Neal? I heard you have been feeling unwell!”

 

“Joster, it was merely a problem of a few minutes. I am perfectly well, now.”

 

“Are you sure, Neal?”

 

El noticed that Joster dropped the ‘Master’, he was now asking as a friend, and Neal nodded, smiling.

 

“In that case, if you are well enough, there are some people here to see you.”

 

“Oh? Who are they, Joster?”

 

“Those two trouble-makers from the dance, Neal – and a friend!” Joster grinned.

 

“Now, why am I confused as to who caused the trouble?” Peter asked El, and she stood up and put her arm round his waist.

 

“Can you wait a moment, Peter?” Neal asked.

 

“This is the trouble with being friends of an important man, the heir of a dynasty,” Peter told him. “They’re always off on official duty!”

 

“Like FBI agents?” Neal demanded.

 

“Yes, like that! We’ll go and see if we can find Tammy, Neal. If we can’t find her or Mozzie, we’ll be waiting in the Greatroom.”

 

“Thank you! I don’t know what this can be about, and it might be important.”

 

Neal strode, with Joster on his heels (sometimes nearly literally!) to the stable yard. There were Adam and Mac standing by a trader’s wagon, on the tail of which was seated Susan, all dressed in their thickest winter clothing.

 

“Susan! Adam, Mac – welcome all of you to Steel Keep. You must be tired and thirsty! You travelled all the way in the wagon-sleigh?”

 

“We did!” Adam told him. “And I have travelled further in far worse conditions, Neal!”

 

“Yes, but you have experienced more varied situations than any other hundred adventurous men!” Mac told him. “And I have been forced to listen to the story of every one of them at some time or another! Sometimes made worse by vain repetitions!”

 

Neal remembered his duties. “Come, Susan, Mac and Adam, let us get you refreshments – Joster, see that the wagoneer is amply recompensed for his trouble, and give him my sincere thanks for looking after friends of Steel Keep.”

 

“Don’t let him fool you, we really weren’t much bother, Joster!” Susan told Joster.

 

“Make him happy!” Neal insisted, and lead the three Earthlings to the Greatroom, calling for food and drink along the way.

 

Sally was sitting thinking in front of the fire, and Susan asked, “May I join you? I did get a little cold!”

 

“Mozzie took Peter and El back?” Neal asked Sally, who nodded her head and moved over for Susan (a polite gesture, merely, there was plenty of room!)

 

Adam and Mac started removing their coats, laid down their swords and shook off hats and scarves. When he saw Neal glance at their weapons, Mac covered them with a casual-looking toss of his coat.

 

“You brought swords to Brethsham?” Neal asked, innocently enough.

 

“Well,” Adam said, shrugging, “we were bought by Sunder, lived there quite a while. It became natural, on Brethsham, for us to carry a sword.”

 

“Yeah, didn’t know you’d prohibit us from carrying at Betchem!” Mac chuckled. “Sorry about the dance!”

 

“Those are not Brethshamite swords,” Neal went on.

 

“No, we wouldn’t steal from Lord Sunder,” Mac agreed. “In my business I come across swords, mostly reproductions or forgeries – no pun intended! – and Adam asked me to look out for one for him. We thought it would be fun to bring them with us!”

 

“Oh, I am thirsty!” Adam declared, and they all moved towards the two women seated on the couch, where Sally was helping Susan remove _her_ outer-wear. Neal bowed to their obvious reluctance to share – he had enough secrets of his own, after all - as Yat and Pila poured tea and placed plates and food on the table, and said, “Sit, all of you! Be comfortable!” and dragged chairs over.

 

Neal waited patiently while they, with many sounds and expressions of appreciation, which made the kitchen slaves smile, enjoyed their breakfast. Once they were eating more slowly, he asked, “So, to what does Steel Keep owe this pleasure?”

 

“It’s my fault, entirely!” Susan said. “I was very pleased to be able to leave Camber! It is not that they are unkind, but I do not think the Keep suits Earthlings. Or not me, anyway! I did not think I would fit with Laffaysham or Sunder, but was quite interested in staying at Betchem once I – well, I was.

         “But then I heard what he’d done to you, Neal, and the rest of Steel, and I decided to come here. If Steel can not use another slave, I would wish to return to Earth. I met several people who have, and they seem to be rebuilding a life there, though it would be difficult.”

 

“We can help her, also, Neal,” Adam said, “if you can’t have Susan here.”

 

“But – why the wagoneer’s cart?”

 

“Lira and Kitran were busy ferrying Earthlings back to Earth,” Mac said, in his deep voice. “Then they were called away. We didn’t mind, we would have gone back for a time to Sunder until a Chiri was free, but when we saw Susan, and she explained her predicament, we just thought we’d take the first transport that presented itself, and make sure she was safe on the journey. And so here we are…it has the added advantage of letting us meet you and your tall Lord again!”

 

“They were knights in shining armour!” Susan nodded, and the muscular ex-Sunderite warriors looked ridiculously bashful.

 

Neal smiled. He had liked the two from the first time they’d spoken and further contact made him all the more curious. Thinking about it made him ask, “Did you happen to see…was the pianist healed before the Chiri had to leave? Oh, I hope so!”

 

“He was brilliant, Neal,” Sally agreed. “What a touch! I wish I’d seen him healed, also!”

 

“Yes, I was there – where were you, Mac? – anyway, Lira healed him and at first he became very agitated. She had put him to sleep – you’ve seen it before, I take it – but he actually woke up, which I’ve _never_ seen. Not until the healing is complete, or however it works! She sang again, quite loudly, and he slept again.”

 

“Did he get to ride? He looked as though he wanted to, on Christmas morning – Betchem Christmas! – but was too damaged to try!”

 

“I don’t think so. His healing took more than a day. He was still concerned, worrying about something he’d left on Earth. Probably family, that’s what most Earth slaves thought of.”

 

Neal noted that Adam didn’t say, ‘what we thought’ of, or ‘what I thought of’.

 

_Mmm - secrets here!_

 

“It is amazing, isn’t it?” Sally asked. “We had a woman – friend of Neal’s - actually…oh. Well, we had a woman who was very badly damaged – and Lira healed her. It was like seeing…an Egyptian mummy restored to vibrant life! She was so deformed, so sad, before!”

 

“Yes, his face was terribly scarred, like some sort of burn. When he was healed he was really good-looking, lovely green eyes, warm smile – you couldn’t see his one eye at all with the skin all pulled up, kind of shrivelled, or melted!” Susan said. “He spoke so nicely to Lira, thanking her and asking her to thank everyone concerned – so I’ll pass his thanks on to you, Neal!   

         “It is a great pity you two couldn’t meet after he was – well, when he seemed to know more or less who he was!”

 

“Did he go back to New York?” Neal asked, thinking he could go and find him, perhaps. Did the admiration he felt for the poor man amount to love? “I wanted to know if he could still play the piano…”

 

Mac grinned at Adam and said to Neal, “You sound like that old joke….’Doctor, Doctor will I be able to play the piano after the surgery?’ ‘Yes, of course, son.’ ‘You really are a great doctor, I could never play before!’”

 

They all laughed, and Neal grinned at Susan. She hadn’t found anyone to joke with at Camber, he remembered.

 

“So he’s in New York, now?” Neal repeated.

 

“No, he asked very urgently to go to New Mexico. Albuquerque, New Mexico,” Susan told him.

 

“Wonder how he came to be so injured and in New York?” Neal pondered. “New Mexico wasn’t hit by the aliens, was it, much?”

 

“I can **_not_** believe Mozzie isn’t here to answer that question!” Sally grinned. “He could expound on Area 51 and Roswell, government cover-ups - !”

 

“True…and we should all re-think those reports, in light of what happened later! - but this, what’s it called – flap! _This_ latest UFO flap!” Mac said.

 

Joster and Merritt came in with Susan’s, Adam’s and Mac’s large bags, and shared a nod with Neal before placing them carefully out of the way by the wall. They quietly went on their way.

 

“Flap!” Neal shook his head at Mac. “More like a smash-blam! And I’m quite glad not to listen _again…_ I have had that seven-hour lecture, trust me, Sally. I love him, and he knows a great deal – and that’s the trouble! He recalls every detail and then expounds on all the cross-linkages and how new information fits or doesn’t!”

 

Sally nodded a little ruefully in agreement with Neal, and Mac went on, “He didn’t say _why_ he wanted to go to New Mexico? Perhaps he’s still confused.”

 

“Lira might know. And perhaps these aliens did go there, as people postulated about Roswell, because of the atomic bomb tests,” Sally said, faithful to Moz.

 

No-one knew, so the subject was dropped.

 

 

Brak and Steel appeared, having finished their work in the stables. Susan stood up immediately, wiping her hands on her trews. Neal stood, and the rest, other than Sally, imitated him.

         “My Lord, according to our agreement with the Lords, Susan has asked to be bought by Steel Keep.”

 

“Welcome to our Keep, Susan!” Steel said, smiling. “Is there any reason meet you at the Gathering we did not ?…oh, we did leave early…”

 

“I missed the opportunity to come with you, or be moved, Lord Steel! I am so sorry to be a bother.”

 

“Oh, a bother you are not. Ah…unless you are as inventive, restless and independent as the other Earthlings of our acquaintance!”

 

The others smiled, but Susan said nervously, “I hope I am not, Lord Steel…”

 

“Well,” teased Neal, “you did find Camber horribly regimented and stodgy, you know!”

 

She glanced across, saw the twinkle in his eye and relaxed. “I do not intend to change the landscape of Brethsham politics, Lord Steel!”

 

 _“Good!”_ Lord Steel said, feelingly.

         “I shall immediately make good your price with my friend Lord Camber – and look not so shocked, his Keep _is_ very predictable and, with my sons here, Steel has been not so, indeed! – and so you can cease to call me Lord Steel.”

 

Susan smiled happily and nodded, gave a little curtsey and said, “It will be my pleasure, my Lord.”

 

“And Adam and Mac brought Susan here, to make sure she was safe. Sure when Lira will be here I am not …” Neal told his father, as that man’s eyes looked them over.

 

“The Chiri all were called away of a sudden, Lord Steel,” Adam said, in slightly odd Sheel, “but we can assuredly travel to Sunder for a time, that is our old Keep.”

 

“You may travel there if you wish, Adam, or you might stay till a Chiri - ”

 

He turned as at that moment Lira drifted in, her face serene and beautiful as ever. Neal had to resist going to hug her!

 

“Greetings, Caerrovon,” she said, and he nodded and smiled his respectful greeting. “I regret leaving you at Betchem,” she said to the three Earthlings. “It was a dire situation of an avalanche in a peasant hamlet near Goren, but all are found and healed, with the help of the dogs they use.”

 

Susan glanced at Neal for guidance, and he went over and took Lira’s hand and said, “As you see, they are arrived healthy and not too cold! Susan will be staying here…and Mac? Adam? Will you stay for a while, also?”

 

The two warriors glanced at each other and Adam said, regretfully, “Though we would so very gladly stay and acquaint ourselves further with you, Neal, your father-Lord and the people of Steel, we have business that should be completed. I pray that we will have a chance at some not-too-distant time to meet.”

 

They gracefully took their leave of Susan and Sally, shook Neal’s hand, and bowed to Lord Steel before collecting their swords, coats and hats in one hand and their bags in the other.

 

“I’m sure we’ll see you again, Neal,” Mac said, smiling. “The universe couldn’t be so cruel as to keep us apart!”

 

“My thoughts exactly! Be safe!”

 

“We always do our best,” Adam nodded, and Lira put her hands gently on their shoulders and they all disappeared, at almost exactly the time that Mozzie re-appeared.

 

Brak shook his head and said to Steel, “It is easier to keep abreast of the movement of our peoples when they use horses or wagons or sleighs, Caerrovon!”

 

Steel grinned. “You took Peter and Elizabeth back, Mozzie? Thank you.”

 

“Lira may be busy for days, Caerrovon!”

 

“Actually, she was just here, she left with the Tar-Baby Twins.”

 

Mozzie looked confused. “Tar-Baby twins?”

 

“Mac and Adam – Tarmacadam!”

 

“So long as we do not become fatally entangled with them! Peter used Kate for that, you were his Brer Rabbit, but you didn’t have the sense to insist on being thrown into the briar patch!”

 

“I feel there is some cultural context that we are missing,” Lord Steel said. “But you can explain some other time. I need to go and make notes about the trades and how we needs must move slaves around if Betchem and the other Keeps carry out their threat. Mozzie – I would like your assistance in about a candlemark or so.”

 

“I will be there, Caerrovon.”

 

Steel strode off.

 

Litha bounced up, and Susan said, shyly, “Should I – is there someone I should report to…?”

 

Brak was about to speak, but Neal answered her instead: “Oh, sorry, Susan, with all the coming and going..!” Neal smiled. “I guess we should entrust you to Ophera, she’s kind of Mother here.”

 

“You have come to join us?” Litha asked, looking curiously at Susan.

 

Susan nodded, not sure she should meet Litha’s eyes.

 

“Well, Su-sann, if you wish to think on it, _I_ shall be desiring for a new lady for myself. I have been looked after by my old nurse, but now I am to be a married lady, I will need a younger personal servant, and I see you are very fond of Neal.

         “Not that it makes such a difference! All the females at Betchem Keep seemed fond of Neal! And at Steel, also. But if you are thinking we might suit, please come and talk to me, if you would? After you see Ophera and are settled, and have time to consider, Su-sann.

         “Oh, and to be fair, you have been at …Camber. Hmm…yes, I see why you…chose to leave. But I am strong Laffay, and it disquiets some people. Think on it. I will not be sad if you choose another position here.”

 

Susan looked at her and at Neal, who was looking at Litha, and smiled. “I will think about that, Lady Litha. Thank you!”

 

“I will take you to Ophera, Susan. Leave your bags there for the moment,” Brak told her, and they left together.

 

“Oh, Neal! I should have asked you, should I not?” Litha asked. “I very much like Joster and Merritt, and it would be well if you liked also my woman.”

 

“I will like whoever makes you happy, Litha!” Neal told her, and they smiled at each other.

 

“So…the sword dance pair were here…?” Mozzie said, questioningly.

 

“They escorted Susan from Betchem, because she wanted to be there, but then we were chucked out, so she wanted to come here instead, but Lira and Kitran and the other Chiri went to help at an avalanche, so the three of them took a wagon-sleigh,” Neal filled him in rapidly, and they sat down and nibbled on some of the snacks. Mozzie looked in vain for some wine, and huffed a little.

 

“There is something about those two,” Neal told the other three. “I hoped they would stay a while, but they said they had to get back. I am sure they have secrets. They brought swords from Earth to Betchem!”

 

“Nothing odd in that, is there?” Mozzie asked. Not that Mozzie would ever take a sword anywhere unless forced, but he could imagine Neal or Caerrovon might!

 

“Yes, Mac is in antiques, he said they were at Sunder and he looked out for swords for them when he went home.”

 

“There you are.” Mozzie didn’t understand average people, but that sounded a plausible explanation.

 

“Moz, get a good look at Adam’s sword I did not but Mac carries a _katana_ of great beauty and age. I wish Litha could read _that!_ You know that type of katana, Mozzie. Worth a king’s ransom, but it is more than a weapon, it is a thing of great beauty, a warrior’s right arm, the honour of a house, a Spirit of Integrity, a Person.

         “He keeps it well, I could smell the clove oil in the chioji he uses on it. Just his movements around it mean that it is not just a piece of hardware to him. I think Adam may be better at hiding his feeling for his sword, but I believe they are…well…there is something strange, a mystery I would like to unravel.

         “They are both British, but Britain keeps banning more and more weapons…that katana would be illegal there, I believe. Now they both live in the United States.

         “Um – perhaps I shouldn’t say what the law is in the UK, now!”

 

“Significance may be attached to almost anything, Neal,” Mozzie answered. “Recall the obsessive reactions of some men to their automobiles in the States before the wars? Perhaps they are merely dedicated re-enactors or some such.”

 

“Well, they would not be re-enacting the same events, that is definite!” Neal said, annoyed to be thus dismissed. “Not with the swords they carry!”

 

“Well, perhaps you will get another chance to speak to them,” Mozzie said, calmly.

 

Neal frowned a little. “Yeah. There is no reason for them to trust me just because I got a party together! I didn’t tell them what I have always done for a living, though I have a feeling that Adam suspects me, as I suspect them – in a nice way, you understand!”

 

Mozzie nodded in agreement. “Always the problem with conmen and criminals…not ever sure we can trust each other.”

 

“Mmm. I suppose having large edged and pointed weapons that are almost certainly illegal constitutes criminality.”

 

“Well, they seem very nice,” Sally said, realising what Neal meant. “I mean, there are criminals and then there are criminals. Perhaps they just feel a sword is necessary as…protection?”

 

Both Neal and Mozzie looked at her, and she shrugged. “I know. Guns are a whole lot easier, and easier to get, and easier to care for…”

 

“You know, guns took over from other weapons in most cases for this reason alone,” Neal told her, “that they are easier to use, easier to manufacture in bulk, easier to use effectively; easier to use to stop or kill someone. Using a sword – or a long- or cross-bow for that matter - takes a lot more skill, strength and training than using a gun. And, in the case of longswords, _much_ easier to carry concealed, at least a hand-gun. And swords can only be used in close quarters, so a hand-gun would be the obvious alternative.”

 

“It is interesting,” Mozzie said. “Perhaps they just brought them to Brethsham and don’t carry them at all on Earth. You said he dealt in antiques…well, perhaps that’s all it is.”

 

“Mozzie, if I was going to drag a painting from Earth to Betchem, to a party, I would not bring something valuable. I’d bring a print or a forgery. Not an original Rembrandt or da Vinci! If it’s just for show, for fun…no. I’d like to find out some day, but I don’t think we yet have the answer.”

 

“And,” Sally said, hesitantly, “it is not just criminals who find trust difficult, you know. My friend in Manchester reads Tarot cards, has since school…she had to pussy-foot round new acquaintances, as some folks call them the Devil’s Playthings and want to get out the garlic and the wooden stakes if they know. She only tells people who won’t become offended.”

 

“And there you are, Neal – people imposing significance on things. In that case, Tarot cards.” Mozzie waved his hands.

 

“Mozzie!” Sally said. “She’s actually quite good, accurate, with her readings!”

 

Neal glanced at Litha. He had never seen Mozzie actually quarrel with anyone, and he and Sally seemed so contented together. He didn’t want to see them disagree, but for Sally to expect Mozzie to believe in divination…?

 

But Mozzie was already speaking, “Sally, if your friend wants to believe that she can lay out cards and see a meaning, or look at the flight of birds, or the stars…that is entirely up to her. If she did not get comfort from it, she would not do it, I must suppose.”

 

Neal’s eyebrows rose. Mozzie saw his surprise and shrugged. “The more our physicists learnt, Neal, the further from sure they became! As I continue to read, and study, I also give up fixed positions. It is the scientifically honest thing to do.”

 

Sally moved over and kissed Mozzie, and Litha smiled at Neal.

 

 

 

Neal invited June, Diana, Tammy, Theo, Steel and Brak, Ophera, Joster and Merritt to their suite of rooms after the evening Meal, as well as Mozzie, Sally and Litha, of course!

 

 

 

The whole feeling in the ‘abandoned suite’ had changed. Gone were the dust and the cobwebs. The main seating area was comfortable and richly furnished. Neal had asked Mozzie’s advice, but other than saying that he liked somewhere to sit where his feet touched the floor – which was a ridiculous exaggeration, he wasn’t _that_ short! – all Mozzie wanted as a necessity was easy access to wine and glasses in every room, and at least one couch he could sleep on!

 

So then June and Neal looked at the soft grey walls and floor and Neal remembered a garden he’d seen, with all the shades one could possibly imagine of roses: old roses, English roses that weren’t just one colour, but were shaded from the centre outwards, or matured from oranges and coppers to pinks and crimsons, beautiful shapes and colours and far more fragrant than the stand-offish Hybrid Tea’s.

 

_Now what IS a rose, or a carnation, without fragrance? Go with an everlasting silk flower instead!_

 

He wanted the room bright, so he chose huge, comfortable couches and chairs of the lightest shade of turquoise, like Araucana eggs paled to just a little stronger than off-white, with matching silk floorlength curtains over thick, warm lining to keep out the drafts in the winter. Over the backs of those couches and chairs he and June had placed warm throws and in the corners large cushions of mostly very light colours of peach, and ashes of roses, and palest pink, blending in harmony.

 

Here and there were touches of much more brilliant colours: rose, apricot, pale persimmon, even watermelon, mango and wine, but never isolated, always grading into each other, fading into their paler counterparts, just like those beautiful roses, some of the names of which Neal remembered: French Lace, Boscobel, Miss Alice, Blessed Child, About Face, Claude Monet, Chicago Peace, Golden Jubilee, Spiced Coffee.

 

There were large rugs of darker grey than the floor, but with smaller rugs of these mid-range colours over them.

 

Earlier that day, Neal took June’s hand and Litha’s hand and jumped to a place he had discovered that grew the roses he loved, and they filled their baskets with roses to match Neal’s masterpiece. Neal had few things that he wanted or needed now, and most things were provided for him by Steel and the crafts-people there, but what was the point of having money and not using it to help other people, or for beauty!

 

On other days he might have camellias, or peonies or huge white sculptural arums, but today he wanted the place adorned with the roses that inspired him, since they were blooming on Earth. He was already planning large water-mark frescoes of these roses, like shadow embroidery, so pale that they would not fight the real things!

 

They returned, removed excess leaves, cut the stems and placed the roses as though tumbling out of large off-white vases of the same colour as the leather furniture.

 

 _Thank goodness I got all the leatherwork from Camber before I brought Goren and Trent!_ Neal thought, devoutly!

 

Then the vases were placed on little high shelves and in niches made especially for them, though statuettes and light-bugs in marvellous glass containers could also go there when Neal and Mozzie had found the perfect pieces.

 

Litha stepped back to the door and Neal watched her. She drew in a deep breath and said, “I knew, when I gave myself to a man and left Laffaysham that I might be marooned in a cold or colourless place. I hoped that my love for my husband would compensate me for my loss.

         “But here, Neal, I have you and the most beautiful room I have ever seen. I truly wish you could read my thoughts, for I have not enough practice to put my emotions into words.”

 

“It is stunning, Neal,” June told him. “It is light and fresh and happy and vibrant all at once. I think we have not yet begun to see your talent, Neal, and I am just glad I adopted you before anyone else got you!”

 

Neal smiled and ducked his head a little bashfully. He had to admit, the room had turned out a reasonable representation of what was in his mind – except that he still had to paint the walls when he had time. He had already mapped out the designs in his thoughts.

 

“I am glad you also like the bedroom, Litha,” he said. That room he had done for her in a lovely shade of lavender against the grey, with lots of white plaster-work and thin emphasis-lines of royal purple. No beige anywhere! “It will be ready whenever we are.”

 

Neal felt a slight pang at thinking of leaving ‘his’ room, in the suite Steel had given Peter, June and him when he first came, the one Mozzie squeezed into - but that was ridiculous!

 

“I shall just sit here,” Litha told him, folding herself delicately in the corner of the one couch and drawing her long feet under her, “and enjoy this.”

 

“You do that darling,” Neal told her, moving over swiftly and kissing her cheek, “for you certainly, to my mind, make the room far more beautiful than anything I could have created!

         “I am going to make sure all the food is ready for our little soirée.”

 

“And I will help you, Neal,” June told him.

 

The two loving friends walked down the corridor together.

 

“You do not need to come with me, June. You have helped a great deal, and you were a fantastic help choosing colours and textures! I love those soft, slightly fluffy throws and silken pillows against that butter-soft leather.”

 

“And that quite astounding colour scheme was all your idea, Neal. I would never have thought to put those colours together, and it is beautiful. Never seen anything like it.”

 

“I think most colours can be placed adjacent if they are blended. It is if there are hard outlines that they can fight…which is why I like watercolours and plan to do more of them. Of course, I usually forged in oils!” He smiled.

 

She took his hand and squeezed it and then they walked together to the kitchen.

 

“We’re very blessed, you know,” she whispered to him, confidentially.

 

“I know!” he whispered back, his blue eyes twinkling into her brown ones. “And for me, honestly, it started with you. Mozzie, and then you.”

 

 

After the evening meal, and after all the evening tasks had been completed, Neal and June hurried to the sons’ rooms, and Mozzie and Sally, who had not been at the evening meal, came in from Mozzie’s rooms. They had not seen the room since Neal had first brought in the furniture, and Mozzie had wondered at the colour, but agreed that they were comfortable and could be slept on with ease!

 

But now they both were standing with their eyes wide.

 

“Neal, this is lovely,” Mozzie said, simply, smiling.

 

“Isn’t this gorgeous!” Sally was going around the room, touching the soft throws, stroking the pillows. She had usually lived with practical and simple surroundings. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate careful and loving attention to every well-fitting detail that make a whole that was so pleasing to every sense.

 

“Sit!” Neal said to them. “The others will join us soon.”

 

“Yeah – our Father wants an accounting of our actions!” grinned Mozzie.

 

Neal sat next to him and bounced. Mozzie considered that in this, Neal would always be a child! He got excited! He bounced! He rejoiced! “Isn’t it wonderful how much he loves us? I suggested he punish me to get back in Betchem’s good graces – Betchem was like a father to him, Betchem Keep like his home – and he said he would never do that, even if …um…’all the armies of King and Keep were at the gates’.”

 

“That’s not practical or pragmatic,” Sally said, thoughtfully.

 

“Indeed it is not ,” Litha told her. “But be only practical love can not.” Then she remembered and said to Neal, “You were busy and the Lady was in a hurry, but I did see Lira and made sure for your sake that the man whose fingers made music on the loud-soft instrument was healed and went home. She personally took the time to leap him.”

 

“Thank you, darling. I am so glad. So he’s back in New Mexico.”

 

“She took him to the location he wished to visit…”

 

“Albuquerque, New Mexico,” Neal told her.

 

“It was near that place, but the exact location, which Lira was hesitant to share and I did not press her, Neal, for they always have their reasons, was destroyed entirely. The Evil Aliens had found a source of power there, Lira said, and took it all without concern for the people or what was there. So the man, Sam, was very saddened, and asked her to take him to the capital? I think I have that correctly.

         “So she leapt him there, and left him and he was very thankful.”

 

The Earthlings sighed. So many had lost so much. They felt almost guilty that they had benefited to this vast extent.

 

“No!” Litha exclaimed. “The fault of those who survive it is not. Indeed, the fault of those brought to a strange place and sold as slaves it is not! That is a foolish conclusion!”

 

“To us it seems strange that two criminals, Litha, dear, should survive and thrive when so many other people died or lost so much!”

 

They heard Diana’s laugh and got up. Neal felt just a little nervous. Would Steel like the way he’d done the room? It had been such a lavish gift, this suite!

 

They others all came in through the huge opened double doors, and stopped.

 

“Oh, Neal!” Diana said, putting Theo down. He hurried over to Neal, who picked him up. Mozzie tickled his cheek, and Litha blew in his ear.

 

“What are these flowers?” Tammy asked. “Oh, are these like those…”

 

“Roses,” her lover told her. “But these are bigger – cabbage roses?” she asked Neal.

 

“I can tell you many of their actual names!” Neal grinned, glad that his father looked impressed and pleased. “My Lord?”

 

“You continue to surprise me, Neal and Mozzie. Never have I seen anything like this…Litha, can we invite your parents and Lord and Lady Laffay here? They will be _so envious!”_

 

“They will merely copy it, my Lord!” Litha told him, while everyone else laughed at Steel’s reaction.

 

“It is these that cast their fragrance?” Steel asked, going up and sniffing one of the carefully casual arrangements. “You paint with colour _and_ scent, my boys!”

 

“You like it?” Neal insisted, hating himself for fishing.

 

“I love it. It is so deep, fresh and _happy!”_ Steel said, looking around. “You have used so many colours, this is something I have not seen.”

 

“There are many colours,” Diana pointed out, “but most of the room is very cool, very pale, clean colours, light and airy. The deep, jewel-colours are accents.”

 

Joster and Merritt appeared and Litha rose swiftly and went to them and whispered something, and returned as they left. Neal queried this with his eyes, but she shook her head and shrugged.

 

They all moved around, letting Steel take the best place in the centre of the couch facing the fire.

 

“I hope that you mind not that go with the Steel colours I did not?” Neal asked.

 

“I would enjoy a few more rooms that are not decked out in the Steel Colours!” Steel groaned. “And I happen to like them! But the Greatroom has to be, and the Hallway, and every liveried servant and horse and carriage…!

         “And my rooms are, too – but not for long. There are several ways I am going to punish you two for springing that shocking event on me at Betchem!”

 

Neal looked a little surprised, but Mozzie grinned and Neal saw Steel was teasing him. “What is that, my Lord?” he asked in a long-suffering tone.

 

“You are to change the colour-scheme of my suite of rooms! I am weary of it beyond belief!”

 

“But – my Lord – I thought that want me there on my own you did not because trust me with all your powerful artefacts you did not!” Neal countered swiftly.

 

Steel chuckled. “That was my reaction a long time ago.

         “I will ask not, but I would place money on the fact that the two of you – for the sake of your curious natures if nothing else – have gone through my rooms? No, tell me not! It is best I know not!”

 

He laughed as his two sons sat looking unbelievably innocent.

 

“Is that all the penalty you impose, Caerrovon, after our fright?” Brak growled.

 

“No. You may go to Earth as you choose, but jump to any other Keep or out of our Keep, indeed, you will not – _not!_ You may go by horse or sleigh once we find that an ousted Keep we are not!” Steel tried to look very stern, but the whole effect was spoiled when Neal handed Theo to Tammy and jumped so his knees landed on the couch next to Steel and he threw his arms round his father.

 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” Neal exclaimed. “I have been translating here, there and everywhere, I so just want to stay home and do some painting and learn about my lovely wife-to-be!”

 

“Thank you so much, my Lord!” Litha agreed. “Been still for a day since I claimed him he has not! Till this last one!”

 

Lord Steel, while quite aware that this might be a con, was in no way immune to Neal’s affection, and hugged him back. “And my rooms?”

 

“Let us get together and discuss colours and fabrics: you, me, June and Mozzie, especially.”

 

“No, no, I am in no way of any help!” Mozzie said. “Though I might suggest black and silver?”

 

“For a _bedroom_ , Mozzie?” Neal demanded, but Steel was colouring, Diana, Brak and Tammy were snickering. Ophera smiled. “What?”

 

“Well, one of the reasons that dragging us off to the dungeons our father is not – but especially you – is because your actions – mainly yours, certainly your instigation! – caused the Trents to be at Betchem.”

 

“And…?” Neal asked.

 

“You were a little distracted by one huge powerful Lord and his anger, and a slender, tall women and her ravishing looks and her love for you…but Lord Trent’s sister Shalla is quite bewitching and rather more than casually interested, we all thought, those of us not changing the face of politics or getting engaged, in one tall, young, handsome and so far emotionally unattached Lord Keeper!”

 

“Mozzie!” Lord Steel demanded, reddening further. “Be quiet!”

 

Neal leaned back to get a good look at Steel. “ ** _Oh!_** Is she nice, Lord, as well as beautiful?”

 

“I know her not, Neal!”

 

“We must change that!” Neal told him.

 

“That is what we say,” Ophera said in her soft voice. “Have a chance to meet this intelligent lady with the good taste I have not!”

 

“I am badly outnumbered!” muttered Steel.

 

“Yes. Surrender to her charms and our exhortations, Caerrovon!” Mozzie told him, grinning.

 

Neal glanced across. Mozzie had changed so much, he was so much more at ease – at home. He added, “You love to tease us, my Lord…so now you must endure the turn-about!”

 

“But I am still the Lord of the Keep and – _and_ one of the best sword fighters on the planet – _and_ commander of our warriors – and your father – you two, anyway!”

 

“So many tasks and positions you fill, my Lord,” Litha said, softly. “It will be easier with a wife to help you!”

 

Everyone laughed, even Steel, and Merritt and Joster came in and brought Susan.

 

“Come in, Su-sann, we are having a – some name – Neal?”

 

“A soirée, Susan!” Neal said in English, and she smiled.

 

“What do you wish, Lady Litha?” Susan asked.

 

“I wish you to come and sit somewhere comfortable and spend some time in our company, just a short while, Su-sann,” Litha said, and though Susan looked horrified, Merritt and Joster were doing just that, so she sat on a fat Ottoman and tried to be inconspicuous.

 

“So, now, Neal, if you were the one who decided the party,” Steel said, firmly, “why did you do it and how…and then tell us how the political aspect was added.”

 

“Yes, Sir!” Neal gestured towards Susan and said, “It is good that Susan is here. She was the one who inspired me, or started me thinking about a party.”

 

Susan startled like a frightened horse, perhaps thinking that she’d been lured here! – and her thin delicate skin showed the nervous flush.

 

“No, no, Susan, it was so good that we met and you were open with me,” Neal said, concerned by her reaction. “Truly!

         “You see, my Lord,” he directed the attention of others away from Susan and back to him and Steel, “we were exceptionally fortunate, those of us who landed at Steel. We found a good, generous and attentive Lord, as much a servant as a master, to be honest. We could start feeling more at home, safe, and connected from the first day. It was a pleasant atmosphere here.

         “In addition, because of Diana and Jones, we had a greater purpose…the acrobatic act, the party, we bonded. Us, you, my Lord, the locals here. ‘A common enemy’ – it is cliché, but it is also true!

         “And we had that party! Yes, it was to distract the Military and save the skins of our friends, but it was also fun – fun with danger, but fun!”

 

“The best kind, hmm, mon frère?” Mozzie demanded, amused.

 

“I’m just so glad that Jones and I could facilitate your need for risk, fun and connections!” Diana remarked, sarcastically, to which Neal grinned.

 

“When you spoke to Susan, Neal?” Steel asked.

 

“Happy she was not. Most of the other slaves entered large Keeps, thousands and thousands of people everywhere. I think,” he glanced at Susan to check, “they felt like cogs, bought for a machine, and, though not cruelly, placed where they were needed and left to fit in.

         “ _You_ asked us what we were good at doing, my Lord, what were our skills and interests.

         “Susan, were you ever asked that?”

 

“No, Neal, we were not,” Susan said, softly.

 

“And Camber, in their ignorance, or their fear, kept similar people – all the Earthlings, for example – separate. So they could talk to other slaves, with the help of the ear-bugs, but not _communicate,_ because of the cultural differences. So they became totally isolated. I saw how severe it was because of how emotionally, intellectually needy Susan was, given the chance to talk to me!”

 

Susan flushed again, but Neal shook his head at her and said in earnest English, “Babies _die_ when they are not touched and given love they can feel, even if they are fed and clothed and their physical needs taken care of. The ones who do not die are stunted emotionally, never learn to connect! They may suffer from Reactive Attachment Disorder and never learn to care or love for others.”

 

“That is true,” Mozzie nodded.

 

“I studied it because some may seem to be sociopaths, clever, but never connecting to others, never able to connect with others, however loving and giving - and I was studying _that_ …”

 

“Because of Doctor Summers,” Mozzie said, sympathetically.

 

“Yes,” Neal nodded, shortly. Then he took a deep breath and went on, to Susan, “I know you are grown, and your brain pathways are already in place, but a situation that can kill babies can not, even in a much less severe form, can _not_ be good for any human – or any Earthling; perhaps other species can adapt more easily.”

 

“So you decided to do something about it?” Susan asked.

 

“Yes – we sang, remember, that silly song, and laughed. How little that was, yet you looked so much better! I wondered if just a party every winter might help! That was the first thought.

         “For Steel is different, but it is small and has a very compassionate Lord.” Steel looked a little awkward, but Neal was not attending to him. “And those at Sunder seemed better integrated – a small Keep, though a very austere one in some ways with a badly limited menu and no wine list!

         “But Betchem, even though they are more friendly…and Laffaysham I knew not well, but the same situation seemed to apply: I spoke to a slave that went there and when I explained how I felt about our Lord, he was surprised, envious, but saw that the same relationship of protection and fealty might exist, but it was not apparent to him. There was too much distance between the Lord and the slave.”

 

“You are saying that perhaps small Keeps are more efficient?” Steel asked, fascinated.

 

“It is the same with small countries, on Earth. A small country has a clearer national identity in many ways. But even there, cities or areas – Keeps, here – have their own identity and a usually friendly rivalry develops. In the States, where we lived, there is quite a disconnect between the North and the South, and even more between the East and the West – and the Middle! And within those each State has a flag and a Seal and sports teams.

         “And within each State there are University teams, there are professional organisations. We would call it the need for a tribal identity.

         “Now if you take an Earthling and strip all that away…however well they are looked after physically…they are missing something. They need to find a way to belong. To care, I suppose.”

 

“Neal, I usually bought one slave at a time, so he or she would integrate. With you because of the circumstances, there were many of you.”

 

“But the common enemy, the Military, helped, and you insisted that people treat us as part of the Keep – Brak, Ophera, Leran, Tammy, Klenalth, and all the slaves under their commands obviously followed suit. We did stay together to some extent, but soon those friendships outside of the group, with people we felt were similar, became stronger, at least in some cases.

         “I am closer to you and Brak and Opera, Joster and Merritt, Imp and Junoel and – well, many of the Steel Keepers! – than I am with Peter, El and Jones, now – even though it is easier to laugh and joke with them because of our common cultural background.

         “Even Alex and Sara.”

 

Neal took a breath and continued. “So I asked Mozzie’s help and we analysed the origins of the slaves that had been bought by the Five Keeps. Because the Slavers wanted to restrict it as much as possible to people speaking one language – English – most of them had been exposed to Christmas, as a religious ceremony of great importance, or at the very least as a time to get together with family and friends, eat a great deal, exchange gifts…it was perfect.

         “So I took what Susan had told me, and tried to put together a meal and decorations to get a ‘Christmas’ feel.”

 

“The charms!” Susan exclaimed, and then looked down, regretting speaking out.

 

“Exactly – the charms! I had never heard of them, did not know the pudding. It was a great deal of fun, going back and speaking to people about their Christmas traditions and finding recipes and deciding on one or two that seemed to incorporate the best of them all…then I had to find all the ingredients in large quantities and of good quality, clean them and bring them to Camber!”

 

“Camber! You brought them here to _Camber!”_ Ophera exclaimed, obviously feeling offended.

 

“They have all the ovens and things, Ophera…and you are open to new ideas. They are _not!_ It was very good for them and I have the recipes, for next year!”

 

“But how did you convince them…?” Susan asked.

 

“They owed me! Me and Mozzie! We had got rid of the murderers and the flowers!”

 

“Best con ever!” Mozzie grinned.

 

“That is exactly what I thought!” Neal turned to him with glee!

 

“And Betchem owed you, as well,” Steel said.

 

“Yes. For that, and for the portraits…” Neal cleared his throat, hoping that they still lived, “…and I promised him one of Lady Cara, Ambreth, Floretha and Ethlan, even himself, in exchange for him hosting the party.

         “Then it just entailed getting all the Lords and Ladies to agree to allow their Earthling slaves to join us – and themselves, too, I wanted them to enjoy it and perhaps make it something that happened every winter, but likely now that is not!”

 

“And then you sprung it on all of us, every Lord, that you wished the slaves to be allowed to go free, return to Earth, or move to another Keep,” Steel said, shaking his head. “That was… bold, Neal!”

 

“Moz and I will pay the slave’s worth if they leave, or the difference between what one Keep wants to pay for a slave and what their owners want for that same slave.

         “I slipped it in after introducing Goren and Trent to the Gathering…I decided that the lesser shock would be easily swallowed by the greater!”

 

“Well, that was certainly true! No one even murmured about it! Lord and Lady Camber seemed struck temporarily dumb by Goren!” Steel agreed.

 

“What did you mean, Neal,” Tammy asked, as she tried to stop Theo climbing over the back of the couch, “by ‘cleaning’ the ingredients.”

 

Neal looked a little embarrassed. “I have lived with Mozzie too long! I know the original Slavers just grabbed us – and other peoples, too, I am sure, from other planets – and I know we have the Chiri, but I wanted not to bring parasites, viruses, any pathogens of any sort, to Brethsham.”

 

“So…?” Brak nudged him.

 

“So I took all the ingredients to the plants – or rather, I took plants to all the ingredients, so they took the lives of any pathogens. They also took the lives of the lovely organic turkeys…that took a few tries…but then the birds were happy, floating, before they were actually killed. The plants quickly learned to leave enough energy for the blood to drain completely, for healthy meat. Lira helped a great deal – and there is no way I can pay her, she says.”

 

“You took the plants to Earth?” Mozzie asked, concerned.

 

“Well, I had told them they could have _me_ , Moz!” Neal frowned, confusing Susan and Litha. “I had to make it up to them. Now they are fed for a good long while! And I know them, remember. They are simple. They just want to survive.”

 

“Yes, so too do the Earthlings!” Mozzie huffed.

 

“You wanted the turkeys to fear, even for a short while? Or for us to bring flukes or ascaris or tapeworms to Brethsham!”

 

“No, I guess – but – never mind it is done now!”

 

“Thank you, Moz!”

 

“So all the puddings were baked at Camber, right under my nose!” Susan declared.

 

“That’s why I had them put you in laundry temporarily,” Neal told her, smiling but apologetic. “I wanted it to be a surprise, and those delicious spices…!”

 

“I got away from there, and it was a truly lovely surprise!”

 

“And the turkeys and all the rest?” Sally asked.

 

“The turkeys went into the extra ice-house they built at Betchem, and the vegetables and wines went into the basements.”

 

“Excuse us, my Lord Steel, Master Neal – we should go, if you need us not,” Joster asked permission.

 

“And I should go and make sure all the little things have been done for the morning,” Ophera agreed.

 

“Do you need help, Love,” Brak asked, and when she shook her head he went on, “You have trained at least ten good slaves who can do everything you do, you do realise that you can take a night off here and there.”

 

“We shall abduct her, Brak,” Steel said, “and take her to Sea Keep in the spring!”

 

Ophera looked horrified, then smiled. “You’re right! I was a slip of a girl when I went there last!”

 

“You will always be that slip of a girl, to me!” Brak told her.

 

“And you, Brak, my husband, are the worst liar I have ever met!” Ophera laughed. “Neal – teach him, would you?”

 

“Hmm…my Lord might not like that, Ophera! His man, as good a liar as me? And I do think some of the talent has to be innate!”

 

“Lord – my Lord!, Lady Litha, if you need me not, I shall go also,” Susan said, quietly. “Or go to your rooms and make ready for you when you come to bed, Lady.”

 

“Concern yourself not, Susan, not tonight! Go and sleep, we shall speak tomorrow.” Litha said.

 

“We will bring in all the snacks and drinks, Neal, before we turn in.”

 

“Thank you, Merritt, and worry not, I will be fine tonight.”

 

Once the snacks had been brought and handed round, the wine opened, the ale and tea poured and everyone was settled again, Steel asked, “For me, the most important question: How did you get Goren and Trent to agree? Why did you even go there! How were you received?”

 

Neal and Mozzie glanced at each other. Mozzie inclined his head a little, and Neal said, “Having studied all the inter-Keep trading figures before and after the rift, we asked Kitran and Lira if they thought Trent and Goren would be open to…negotiations. They thought they would, and Kitran agreed to take us, just in case they had read the situation incorrectly and a…fast get-away was required! It would not do for them to know we could translate!”

 

“Go on!”

 

“We went to Trent first, on Lira’s recommendation. I also knew a slave who had been at Trent – the tall woman with red hair, Rebecca.”

 

“Ah, a good warrior!” Brak told him.

 

“That is the very woman!

         “I explained my mission, and they still have two slaves from Earth there. They are so nice, the Trents, rather like you, Lord Steel, but they are a couple and have children – it is like a big home on Earth! They are light-hearted and were very taken with the idea of a party, whatever the reason. I think they get together with the younger Gorens, but with that Keep, as their hair lightens, their mood settled and they become sedate and withdrawn, they study hard and work at their skills in greater isolation. They are not bad, in any way, but not…”

 

“Frivolous,” Mozzie suggested.

 

“Yes, _not_ frivolous,” Neal grinned. Most people did not know Mozzie’s frivolous side, but he did have one! “So they were quite easy to convince, if Goren went. Otherwise, they would just send Paddy and Dana, the two Earthlings there, and stay home!”

 

“And Goren?” pushed Steel, when Neal did not immediately continue.

 

Neal glanced around and made sure all the people there were completely trustworthy. “We then went to Goren Keep – Lord Trent sent a couple of his men and leant us the horses. Oh, we should be able to sell Trent better horses, Lord!

         “We got to Goren, they saw the Trent livery and let us in. There were a million Gorens, Lord, it seemed! They are quiet and reserved when one meets them. The children, of course, all with that straight black hair, quite gorgeous, all run around like mad things, just as children everywhere!...

         “We were taken into the august presence of Lord and Lady Goren and their next two generations of heirs, and their wives and all their slaves and a few armed guards as an honour to the Lord. I do not know if when Lord and Lady Trent visit there is laughing and singing, but when we arrived, there was not, though they gave us everything in the way of food and drink and a lovely suite, my Lord! They were in no way backward in showing us respect when they heard we were Heirs of Steel.”

 

“I assume you let them think you were there in an official capacity?” Steel asked, drily.

 

Neal and Mozzie looked at each other and Mozzie shrugged: “Recall that subject being broached I do not, Caerrovon.”

 

Steel gave them a look as sharp as his name, but there was no point in trying to explain to these two – they had won, so all was right with the planet!

 

“We wanted not to bring up the split in front of eighty-two people, my Lord! We spoke of trivialities, as one does when one has important subjects that require a smaller audience, in the hope that the other will understand…it took us three days of going quietly mad with boredom until I managed to get Lord Goren to show me the quarries of marble and other fine rock, as I told him I had done some sculpture. So it ended up with Lord Goren and his heir, Treghlon, and also a few slaves that rode at some distance.

         “I then brought up the strength of the Alliance as it had been during the glorious days of the Keep Wars, when none could stand against it, and Lord Goren became quite animated: by the way, he could do with some better horses also, and better trained. He has a very nice seat and all of them ride light and well, my Lord!”

 

Lord Steel grinned, but said nothing, and Neal continued, “I did try and winkle out of the man the reasons, as subtly as I could, that Goren was no longer part of that Alliance. I think it would take the black powder they use to blast the rock to get an answer from him, but we became more friendly.

         “I did ask him outright if he regretted that the Alliance Seven had broken down and he nodded and said it had its benefits. “I was becoming desperate, you know, but I asked if he would allow the Earthling slaves – there are only three! – to attend the party if Lira or Kitran could take them. To that he agreed quite amenably.”

 

“Then they returned home,” Mozzie went on. “Having shared a look with my unsuccessful friend here, I asked Lord Goren if he would do us – the Earthlings – the honour of attending the feast.”

 

“And he was under the misapprehension that it was being held at Steel?” Litha grinned.

 

 _“She_ has your measure, Neal!” Brak chuckled.

 

“That is a good thing, if you are to be married!” June smiled at her.

 

“The exact location, again, did not come up in the conversation!”

 

“He seemed to be pleased to be asked,” Mozzie went on, “and I smiled at him and asked if I could persuade him.”

 

“Oh?” Diana put in, dreading to think what pressure these two could put upon an entire very large group of Gorenmen!

 

“He demanded to know what I proposed, and I suggested he join me in a game of chance.”

 

Neal snickered. “Mozzie had found that all of them – down to the youngest child who knows his numbers and letters – delight in games of chance.”

 

Steel groaned, audibly.

 

“It was more than fair, Caerrovon!” Mozzie protested. “I did not know the game, nor the symbols, knew nothing of the rules – or how they were betting, indeed!”

 

“But you could have lost Steel Keep or something!” Diana exclaimed, horrified.

 

“ _Mozzie?”_ Sal asked Diana.

 

 _“Lost?”_ Mozzie objected, affronted. “I lured them in for five rounds of the game, and then won so resoundingly that even through their Vulcan lack of expression they showed concern.”

 

“How mean, Mozzie!” June said, with an impish grin of her own, shaking her head at him.

 

“My biggest problem was that I find it easy to be inscrutable when playing. When watching this marathon event, and masterly gamesmanship, I did find it difficult not to beam with good cheer!” Neal told them.

 

“For a very good cause, June!” Mozzie reminded her. “I am not sure exactly how much I won, at the conclusion of the evening…they could not stop, it was sad!...but when I suggested they could expunge the debt by sending a small contingent to our party, including the Lord and Lady, they seemed inordinately relieved!”

 

“I came and thanked them effusively,” Neal said, “and then Mozzie casually let fall the date and location of the Gathering. I think the Gorens could hardly _see_ Mozzie behind the mountain of winnings, till he stood up!”

 

“It was an interesting exercise,” Mozzie nodded. “During the game, their expressions fell incrementally with each round. At my offer of wiping out the debt, they almost smiled, I do swear! – and then they fell as fast as the temperature here in winter when the sun goes beneath the mountain on a moonless night! And all these changes on faces one might think void of expression, indeed!”

 

“And then, Mozzie?” Sally entreated. “Can’t you two just tell us the story quickly?”

 

“It is the political story of a lifetime…especially _my_ lifetime, Sal, dear!” Mozzie grinned at her.

 

“I knew politics was supposed to be a game of dirty tricks and fixed games, but this is the epitome of that!” Diana sat back and looked at the ceiling.

 

“I did not trick or fix,” Mozzie snorted. “I am just very good. It took me three rounds to learn.”

 

“If they had been better than you, my son?” Steel asked.

 

“Oh, well, then I would have cheated,” conceded Mozzie. “It was important that I won: my brother here had done a great deal of work already! Having another excuse to inveigle Goren to Betchem – or visa versa – within our lifetimes seems an almost nil chance.”

 

“Did they argue?” June asked.

 

“No. Strangely, rather as on Earth in times past, a debt of honour incurred at the gaming tables seems to demand prompt payment with dignity. They did mumble, until Mozzie started stacking all the little gaming pieces – chips, we would call them.” Neal was remembering, a grin wide across his face.

         “He built the skyline of old New York, and had enough building blocks for Chicago and Paris!”

 

“But though they looked rather dour, when I told them we were going to play a trick on Lord Betchem – and they discovered it was indeed Theldylyn Betchem – then they all cheered up amazingly!” Mozzie smiled round. “Then it was just planning!”

 

There was a silence as everyone contemplated the scheme. Diana thought that the FBI had been lucky to keep any kind of tabs on these two. They were so Machiavellian! One alone was bad – the two together - ! Probably Neal had enjoyed working with the team, and Peter, at least some of the time…or were they just peeking at the enemy’s play-book?

 

“It seems silly that you brought the two Ousted Keeps in, only to have our Keep likewise Ousted!” Brak sighed.

 

“I have only one real concern having heard out my Lord on the subject,” Neal turned to speak to Brak, “and that is the age of Betchem. For our Lord loves Lord Betchem like a father. And he is elderly. I am not sure how Ambreth would feel, but many of his siblings are our friends. I think most of them would just forget about our pariah status. So it is unlikely to endure for anything like the Goren-Betchem rift.”

 

“And Lord and Lady Camber are my friends, we are bound to Laffay by two generations of blood….”

 

“And Sunder has two reasons…you may know they also had a – well, more like a tiff with Trent over some coal sales, at about the same time as the Goren-Betchem altercation.

         “So while Goren entered the Betchem Great Hall, I sent Lord Sunder a note asking his favour on the re-integration of Trent and added the quotation he wrote in his letter to you, my Lord. It reminded him that I …by careful planning…bested his son Jebb. The Sunders are as stiff-necked as Lucifer, and the very thought that such a tale would get about…not that I ever threatened to do so, you understand!.. convinced them to promote my cause!

         “And they also have been having very good results with our fog-collecting cloth, so they are desirous of purchasing a great deal more!”

 

“That is something else you must tell me, but not today!” Steel declared. “I feel my brain has absorbed enough!”

 

“Do you not fear – well – threatening! – powerful people like Lord Sunder and Lord Betchem, tricking Lord Goren?” Brak enquired.

 

“I did not trick Lord Goren!” Mozzie told him, emphatically. “I conquered Lord Goren and two of his eldest heirs fair and square.”

 

“And all these Lords love me, Brak, and I love them!” Neal assured Caerrovon’s man.

 

“So you are well-pleased, Neal?” Steel asked, pulling his son down next to him and hugging him. Litha went and sat next to Neal, and Sally took Mozzie’s hand and guided him to sit on the opposite side of Steel, and then sat with him.

 

“I am – especially if it should come about that you have found a woman to love, my Lord. Then you may have children and I can retire!”

 

“But all this – it is not the normal duties of an heir!” Brak told him.

 

“Well, then, it is lucky Mozzie and I were heirs for a short duration,” Neal answered, thoughtfully.

 

They all sat quietly, thinking, snacking and sipping on their favourite beverages. Neal got down and encouraged the fire and added some coal. Trent coal, as it happened. A gift from the Lord.

 

The room was filled with soft sounds from the large fire, while outside the snow fell unceasingly. There was a feeling of comfort and safety and belonging in the little group.

 

“So things have all worked out well for you, Neal?” Sally asked him, eventually.

 

Neal stirred and said, “You know only a little of this, Sally, but at one time I felt dislocated, alone. Very lonely and forced to rely only on myself. Then I had Mozzie, but – Mozzie has had to learn to be …?”

 

“Cuddley!” Sally grinned, hugging him and Neal nodded.

 

Mozzie shrugged. “It just takes me some time to trust and become open.”

 

“And I desperately wanted my father - but I found June, and that made up for many losses,” Neal continued. “And now I have Mozzie, June, my Lord, Litha, Sally, Diana, Tammy and Theo, Merritt and Joster. Health, wealth and happiness. Yeah.

         “You all have become sisters and brothers, a mother and a father…I am aware now of being needed and loved and trusted and accepted. I have a few homes, not just one – but this is really my home, this and June’s. Perhaps because I so needed a safe, loving place when I was taken in to these two!”

 

Steel’s arm tightened around Neal a little, Brak smiled at them and June felt a glow of love and pride, seeing how obviously happy Neal was now.

 

Neal continued thoughtfully, “I am so glad to rest, create a beautiful suite for my brother and our lovely women and also one for my father…and paint, and continue to teach the children. It will be nice to take a pleasant breather and settle here in this strong, welcoming place.

         “But after a few fifty-days, I promised Mozzie: - he still has a ship he wants to search for, on Earth… we became a little distracted…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End of OOB


End file.
